There's A First For Everything
by Ai Enmaxjigoku shoujo
Summary: Just a collection of prompts I have filled on my tumblr and fills I've filled for the SnK kink meme all in one neat package. Jean/Armin. NSFW.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Jean and Armin's first time.

* * *

"I'm finished showering," Armin said as he walked into Jean's bedroom; hair wet, towel around his shoulders, and donned in nothing more than one of Jean's button up shirts. He flushed, "And I… finished with that too."

That was some of the steps he had to take in preparation for tonight. Tonight being the first time they tried to… y'know… do it.

Armin had read probably a hundred online articles (and he always deleted his browser history right after) and even went so far to flip through health catalogues and anatomy books just to make sure he knew everything there was to possibly know about sex between two guys.

Tonight would be their second attempt, though the first time hardly counted because it had been in the heat of the moment and Jean had just tried to slid right in, and hadn't been able to even get the tip in – thank god he hadn't been using too much force, otherwise Armin would have been in for a world of hurt; or at least that's what all the facts seemed to state.

Jean was sitting on his bed, clad only in boxers, with his legs crossed and was fiddling with a box of condoms. When he looked up at Armin he gulped audibly, cheeks a deep red, before he was practically flinging the box of condoms at his wall – he hadn't expected Armin to walk in just when he did.

"O-oh… that's good," he said, trying to sound confident as he wiped the sweat accumulating on the palms of his hands onto his boxers.

The blond lingered in the doorway a little bit, knees trembling ever so slightly, before he made his way across the room and gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, "My hair is still a little wet. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Jean nodded before patting the space next to him – an invitation for Armin to crawl over to him and settle with his legs tucked under him. The two leaned in for a kiss, a chaste touching of lips that lasted for a mere second, and Jean placed his hands on Armin's hips through the thin fabric of his shirt and Armin pulled back – jittery from his nerves.

"We should start," Armin whispered and Jean nodded again – scooting over some so Armin could lie back on the bed. He handed him a pillow, which Armin took gratefully before slipping it under his hips – propping himself up a bit.

Even though Jean had seen him naked hundreds of times, he was suddenly very bashful and it took all of his willpower to spread his legs and even though the shirt was long and fell down to his thighs, at this angle Jean could probably see everything and so Armin covered his private areas with his hands the best he could.

Typically, Jean would have grabbed his hand, made a teasing comment and then kissed the blond senseless but he was feeling a bit modest today too and so he just crawled on his knees over to Armin and sat directly in front of Armin's spread legs. He gave Armin his best reassuring smile, who returned it half-heartedly, before he was reaching for the small tube of lube he had bought at the supermarket last week (and the cashier had given him a wink and a thumbs up and Jean had just chuckled nervously before taking his purchases and walking bow-legged to his car, where he proceeded to sit for several minutes with his face on the steering wheel – horribly, horribly embarrassed).

Armin had explained to him how all this would be going down tonight and so he fumbled with the cap before squeezing way too much lube onto the tips of his fingers. He cursed – something that drew a forced laugh from Armin – before he was tossing the bottle aside and then grabbing Armin's left thigh and pushing his leg up and out a little bit more.

"You gotta move your hands. I need to see," Jean said, right hand dripping with lube and Armin hesitated briefly before he was lifting his hands and not knowing what to do with them, just holding them straight out into the air. And Jean might have laughed if he wasn't so distracted with the task at hand; he brought his pointer finger to Armin's hole and prodded the entrance a bit before putting the tip inside. He wiggled it a bit, glancing briefly at Armin, who (after taking several deep breaths and just relaxing) was propping himself up with his elbows so he could look at what Jean was doing – and since he looked okay, Jean pressed forward a bit more – up to the first knuckle.

"It feels weird," he commented and Armin scowled.

"That's mean." He said before adding, "It feels weird for me too."

"But it doesn't hurt?"

"Mm mm," Armin shook his head 'no' and Jean puffed out a breath of air he hadn't realized he was holding before twisting his finger as he pushed the digit in all the way, "It doesn't feel very deep," the blond said as Jean just kind of twisted his finger a bit – feeling around – it really did feel odd.

"Maybe you should try moving it in and out?" Armin offered tentatively, once it seemed like Jean wasn't going to do anything more than prod around.

"Right. Sorry," and then he was sliding the finger out, almost all the way, before sliding back in – staring intently as his finger disappeared inside Armin, before looking up at the boy who seemed to have calmed down a lot and was nowhere near as tense as he had been earlier.

Armin scrunched his nose up in confusion, "It feels…" and when he didn't answer, Jean tried slowly sliding back out, before sliding back in once, twice, and then three more times.

"I wouldn't say it is pleasurable, but it isn't bad?" Armin offered and when Jean frowned he quickly tacked on, "Don't get me wrong – I like it."

"That's good. I think I'll add the second one now," and once Armin nodded his consent; Jean pulled his finger back out – all the way this time – before placing two at Armin's entrance and wiggling the tips of his fingers inside. There was a bit more resistance with this one, but it still went in fairly well and Jean worked his fingers back and forth inside Armin who was beginning to pant.

"I actually… I actually like it more than I thought I would," he confessed and Jean had to bite his cheek to avoid the smug grin that almost slipped on his face.

"Awesome. I'm gonna spread my fingers now," Jean said and Armin nodded, eyes sliding shut as Jean opened and closed his two fingers in a scissoring motion, "… I liked it better when you weren't doing that."

Jean chuckled, "This – it's actually harder to do this than I thought. It's a great finger work out—owch!" Jean glared at Armin who was scowling at him even though he was the one that had smacked Jean upside the head.

"Don't say something like that – its indecent and rude."

Jean just shrugged, going back to stretching Armin, who after several moments told Jean, "Do it in the other direction as well – so it's stretched properly."

Finally, moments later, "Can I put in the third one?" he asked as he slid his fingers out, before pressing three inside. Again, nothing too challenging – this was actually going pretty good. Better than expected – he didn't feel nervous at all anymore. If anything, staring down at Armin sprawled out on his bed in nothing but a loose shirt, legs spread, and cheeks flushed – was kind of hot and Jean let go of Armin's thigh briefly so he could unzip his pants and relieve some of the pressure in his pants, before grabbing the boy's leg again.

Armin was actually feeling fairly confident himself, though he knew the next step would be a big jump from a few fingers, and tried not to let his hopes get up too much.

"I think I like it best when you don't move your fingers – just the feel of you inside me is making me pretty excited,"

Jean jerked a bit – the action causing Armin to look up at him, he had felt it after all – the blond's words making his cock twitch in excitement, "I have to move though – otherwise it isn't sex."

The brunet watched as Armin pulled the shirt up a bit, before wrapping slender fingers around his half erect member.

"I thought you said you were excited," Jean said – worried that maybe Armin had lied about liking it.

"I said its 'making' me excited. It's fine now though," and gone was the modesty from earlier (because now his nerves didn't seem to be on fire) and he moved his hand up and down the length of his cock – showing Jean just how 'excited' he was.

Jean swallowed, "I think you're ready," before he was pulling out his fingers and grabbing the box of condoms from earlier and taking one out before removing it from its wrapper and smoothing it down his cock with practiced ease (literally practiced, because back when he and Armin first started dating he must have went through an entire box of condoms trying to use them efficiently so Armin wouldn't think he was a loser) before reaching for the tube of lubricant from earlier and squeezing some out onto himself and hissing, "Fuck that's cold."

"I know," Armin gave him a dead-pan look, as (for added security even though the condom was lubricated) Jean spread the lube all over himself.

"You ready?" he asked, and he slid forward so he was closer to Armin – pressing Armin's leg up even more, his lower half lifting off the bed some. He placed the tip of his erection against Armin, "It's okay right?"

And Armin nodded, taking deep breaths once more because he could feel his confidence slipping away, "Yeah – I'm good."

And then Jean was moving forward and, "… It's not going in."

"You have to use some pressure. You can't just expect it to go in that easily."

"My fingers did,"

"Yeah well your fingers are a lot smaller than your – your thing,"

Jean raised an eyebrow, "My thing?"

Armin flushed, "Shut up - just get on with it."

The brunet nodded, before pressing forward once more and fuuuck it was really tight and, "Relax Armin," he grunted when Armin tightened around the head of his erection.

"I'm sorry," Armin apologized, sucking in deep breaths through his teeth and when he had unclamped himself around Jean, the brunet started moving forward once more – achingly slow. Achingly because he wanted to just thrust forward because it was so hot and tight, and achingly for Armin because holy hell it hurt like a bitch and, "I think I'm going to die."

"You aren't going to die," was Jean's response, grinding his teeth a bit as he kept pressing forward.

"No really," Armin gasped, hand wrapping around Jean's wrist, "I'm dying. Stop."

And with more will power than Jean thought he had, he stilled his hips – panting above Armin – only half way in; and then he was looking at Armin, whose cock was lying limp against his stomach and had tears running down his face.

"Fuck. Armin are you okay?" there was panic evident in his voice – was it supposed to reduce his boyfriend to tears? Maybe he did it wrong? Shit.

"Oh god. Armin I'm sorry. Shit, should I pull out? I'm taking it out," and he started to pull back only for Armin to tighten his grasp around his wrist.

"I swear to god Jean if you move, I will kill you."

Well damn. Who knew Armin could be so frightening.

"What… What do I do?"

"Just, just let me catch my breath," and honestly Armin felt like quitting right here and now but they'd already gotten so far and he knew if he stopped Jean probably wouldn't want to try it again for months and even though it really hurt, he wanted to do this.

"Okay," Armin gasped after what felt like hours, Jean trembling above him because he really, really needed to move because it was unbearably good inside Armin, "Maybe try rocking your hips a little? Like maybe you could shimmy out a little and then like… wiggle back in?"

Jean didn't think he had ever heard Armin say the word 'wiggle' before. Typically he was all about using more scientific terms, and he was tempted to tease him (he liked teasing Armin – he really did) but decided against it and instead moved back a little bit, all the while watching Armin's facial expressions; who didn't seem to mind the movement much at all, before 'wiggling' forward and cue the small gasp from Armin. He repeated the process, left hand rubbing soothing circles on Armin's thigh, and right hand rubbing up and down Armin's side – murmuring whispered apologies and promises that it would be okay.

When he was finally in, they both let out a relieved sigh – Jean because damn did it feel good, and Armin because good lord he had finally stopped moving.

The blond breathed harshly through his nose, biting his lip as he allowed himself to relax – a feat in and of itself – and just adjust to, he hated to admit, the intrusion.

Jean took it upon himself to start stroking Armin's cock, offering a bit of a distraction from the throbbing ache inside of him, and coaxing the appendage back to life. After a couple short strokes – Jean knew exactly how he liked it – he was eliciting gasps of pleasure from the blond.

"Okay, I'm gonna move now."

And Armin whimpered, "Slowly please. And shallow too! Don't pull out all the way! Start with like a quarter and then work your way up from there."

"I will," Jean placed a soft kiss atop Armin's nose, before pulling back – not too much – and then rocking forward – letting out a grunt of his own.

"Fuck," he cursed, "It feels so good." And Armin grit his teeth because it didn't feel so good on his end, but he wasn't telling Jean that.

Jean pulled out more, this time half way, before he was sliding forward once more – as slowly as he could manage without torturing himself, "So good," he rasped and Armin had to bite his wrist.

He liked it more when Jean just stayed still, but he knew he couldn't just ask Jean to not move. The moving forward part wasn't too bad, but he didn't care too much for the pulling sensation he experienced every time Jean slid out.

Armin brought his unoccupied hand to his cock, stroking himself once more and he supposed it wasn't too bad if he distracted himself. It wasn't good though either. But Jean seemed to be enjoying it, and so he'd just have to grin and bear it – it would feel better in a little while – or at least he kept telling himself that.

"Armin," Jean groaned, thrusting in and out of Armin slowly, "Can I go faster?"

The blond didn't answer for a moment, thinking it over. It was no longer that crippling, sharp stinging sensation but rather a dull throb and a slight burning and so he thought maybe he could handle it, but…

"Remember what I said about the prostate gland?" he asked tentatively and Jean looked confused for a moment - likely wondering why Armin would ask him an anatomy question in the middle of sex – before he remembered just how important of a role the prostate played; he nodded 'yes'.

"Could you… could you find it first please?" Armin asked, still teary eyed and Jean's own eyes softened before he was moving Armin's wrist away from his mouth and kissing him.

"Yeah, okay."

And now Jean was hesitating, "Uhh…" now how did he ask this without sounding like a complete idiot, "Where is it? How do I find it exactly? I mean… I can't feel around with my dick. It doesn't swivel."

Armin wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry, "It's the angle of your thrust. The shape and size of your penis affects what angle you need to use. So it'll be trial and error."

"Right." And so Jean pulled back, no too much – he was on a mission for Armin after all – and then thrust forward in a downward motion. Judging by Armin's hiss, that wasn't right.

"No, ah. Let me help," and with aching hips, he arched his back a bit, "Hey give me a another pillow," which Jean blindly reached for, trying not to jerk out of Armin as he reached behind him.

"Here," he stuffed said pillow under Armin, "Should I let go of your leg?"

Armin thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head 'no', "I'm going to put my other leg around your waist," and then he was raising his leg – the appendage trembling – before he was hooking it around Jean's waist.

"I feel like we're playing twister," Jean commented softly and Armin smiled, "Only you would think something like that."

"Okay," Armin said, settling into his pillow a bit, "Try again, but pull out more this time. And thrust upwards."

Jean nodded eagerly, before he was pulling out more than half-way and trusting forward once more, "Good yet?"

"Not yet – but I think I'm getting used to you moving," it still didn't feel good though, but it was no longer unbearably painful. For Jean, he could put up with it. And Armin thought maybe that was half the battle – he needed to stop telling himself it hurt and try to focus on the good things. The way Jean smiled at him, the way he grunted with every thrust, the way sweat dribbled down the side of his face. Jean looked really good and seemed to be enjoying himself, so Armin would do his best to enjoy this as well.

Jean pulled back once more, this time angling his hips a bit differently and then swiftly thrust forward once more – the action causing Armin to cry out and his whole body to tremble.

"Fuck, did I hurt you?!" he practically screamed and Armin shook his head in a circular motion – yes? No? Jean couldn't tell.

Armin had to catch his breath before answering, "Yes, no uhm… I'm not sure. It was different from before and I can't… I think I'm too sensitive."

"Should I try it again?"

"Uhm… yeah, but maybe a bit more gently and not exactly right against it? I think maybe you jabbed the prostate and I've always been a bit sensitive so maybe if you could… Actually could you get my anatomy book from my bag?"

Jean squeaked, "What? No. Come on Armin, let me try again – I'll be more careful."

And Armin figured, if Jean had to pull out all the way, he probably wouldn't want Jean to enter a second time and so he reluctantly relented, "Okay."

The taller boy sighed in relief, before pulling back out once more and this time thrusting gently and at a slightly different angle and, "Ah!" Armin's leg tightened around his hip.

It was probably the single most arousing sound Armin had ever made and Jean suddenly wanted to hear it again, and so he pulled back once more – going for the same angle and again Armin was crying out.

Oh god he could get used to that, "Is it good?"

And Armin nodded his head, mouth agape – which Jean took as a signal to do it again.

"Don't – please not too much," Armin cried, bringing his wrist to his mouth again so he could bite it. Armin couldn't explain it – it was good, but almost torturously good. He still had that ache every time Jean moved and there was that burning tugging sensation every time he pulled out, but now there was the added addition of Jean rubbing against him in a way that was… he couldn't explain it. But it was too much, "I'm too sensitive."

"Should I not do it anymore?" Jean asked, shallowly thrusting against Armin because like hell he was going to stop now – not when Armin had moaned like that and god the way he had tightened around him every time Jean rubbed him in the right way – if he had thought Armin was tight before – it was even crazier when the blond was enjoying it.

"No, just… every once in a while?"

Jean nodded, before he was thrusting again – this time not sliding against Armin's prostate and instead downwards more. And now that Jean had free reign and didn't have to stop every thirty seconds because he was hurting Armin - and yeah Armin felt good, but he couldn't exactly get off if he knew he was hurting the boy – Jean lost himself. He was pulling out as far as he dared and sliding forward as fast as he could and it was good – really, really, really good and at first he tried to remember to rub against Armin's prostate but sometimes he got the angle wrong and sometimes he didn't and sometimes Armin would cry out in the way he had when Jean had accidentally jabbed Armin's prostate the first time and pretty soon his ears were ringing and he wasn't sure how much longer he'd last.

Armin seemed to be getting used to it if his facial expression were anything to go by and Jean took comfort in that and before he knew it he was cumming and it had to have been the single most amazing orgasm he had ever experienced and his whole body shook and he pulled out of Armin shakily before pulling off the condom, tying it, and tossing it in the trash bin by his bed. And then completely spent of energy, he plopped onto his back (after having let go of Armin's leg and unhooking the other one from around his waist) and just trembled from how good he felt.

He turned his head to look at Armin who was lazily batting at the pillows beneath him – uncomfortable but too tired to move them. So Jean pulled them out from under him and tossed them to the top of the bed. He smiled at the boy, eyes soaking up his flushed face, damp hair, the way Jean's white button up clung to his heaving chest, and – Jean's eyes narrowed in on Armin's half erect member and seeing no stain anywhere on Armin's thighs or on the shirt, "You didn't cum?"

"Ah… no." and the blond sounded a bit guilty and Jean suddenly felt bad.

"Was it that bad?" because he had thought it was the best thing in the world and now he kind of felt like crap.

"No, it wasn't bad." Armin whispered.

"But it wasn't good either?"

The blond hesitated, before rolling over to face Jean, "All the things I read said it isn't uncommon for a guy to not enjoy his first time being penetrated."

"But I thought – I found your prostate – isn't that supposed to like make it amazing or whatever?"

"Well… I guess so. And it was, but I just don't think I was used to the whole thrusting business. You didn't hurt me or anything…" Jean frowned and Armin corrected himself, "Well it did hurt but it wasn't your fault."

"It started feeling okay towards the end there," Armin said, snuggling against Jean's chest tiredly, "… I think if you had lasted more than a minute I might have had a chance to enjoy my… self…" the blond trailed off as Jean stiffened against him and looked up at him and noticed the horrified look on his boyfriend's face.

"A minute?" he asked, "A minute?" because it had felt like a lifetime to him and seriously a minute? That was so embarrassing.

"Well I mean if you count all the time it took for you to get inside and let me adjust and for you to locate my prostate and what not; it was actually a very long time. But we had to keep stopping and going and so when we finally did it without any interruptions you were pretty much done within a minute."

"Nooo," Jean groaned, burying his face into his hands.

"Well we should probably count it from the start because it felt good the whole time for you right? So really you lasted a really long time!"

And Jean felt worse now because here Armin was trying to stroke his ego when the blond himself hadn't even been close to cumming.

"Ugh, this is the worst," he cried and Armin rubbed his shoulder.

"You'll do better next time – we both will."

Jean spread his fingers a bit to peek at Armin through his hands, "Next time?"

The blond nodded.

"Even though it wasn't very good and you didn't cum?"

Armin nodded again.

"You don't hurt right now?"

Armin shook his head, "Not really. I feel a little weird – empty maybe? But I'm not as sore as I thought I'd be."

Jean smiled, looking relieved, "Good, I'm glad."

* * *

Jean was startled awake the next morning by a pillow harshly thwacking him in the face – was it possible for a pillow to hurt that much? He groggily blinked up at Armin, who was sitting up and glaring at him.

"Never again," the blond hissed and Jean sputtered in shock before sitting up as well.

"But I thought you said it didn't hurt—"

"Well I hurt now!" Armin cut him off, "My hips and my back and everything hurts – I think I'm dying."

"Armin you aren't dying, you're just a little sore from last night."

"A little?" Armin asked incredulously before he was groaning in his hands – too tired to argue, "If you ever want to have sex with me again…" he shook his head, "Just… Please bring me some pain medicine and a heating pad if you have one."

Jean smiled tenderly at Armin, even when he was apparently dying from pain, he still didn't have the heart to be mean. He leaned over to kiss the blond gently, before ruffling his hair and rolling out of bed.

"I'm miserable," Armin whined and Jean figured he really must hurt because typically the blond tried not to inconvenience anyone when he wasn't feeling well.

"Sorry," Jean apologized, "I'll make you breakfast in bed. What do you want?"

"… French toast?"

And Jean smiled, "That's my specialty."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: In which Eren is a cockblock.

* * *

"You're kidding,"

"Not at all. But it isn't just the sea that is so vast. Even the land outside Wall Maria is seemingly infinite compared to what we know."

Eren sat up top his bunk, legs crossed and hands gripping his knees as he glared down at Jean, who was sitting on his own bed across the room, leaning against the wall with Armin pressed against his side as the two of them talked about the world outside.

Eren had heard all of this before, but he didn't mind hearing it again – he liked listening to Armin talk. Seeing the blond so passionate about something always motivated Eren even more to purge the world of all the titans, they would see the world together – him, Armin, and Mikasa.

But recently…

Eren's right eye twitched as he watched Jean ruffle Armin's hair and then kiss him atop his head, the smaller boy flushing and giggling. Eren thought he was going to be sick.

He didn't have a problem with Armin making other friends because he genuinely liked seeing him happy and Armin was like a little brother to him and so when Jean and Armin first started hanging out, Eren had put up with it. But this – this being how their friendship slowly evolved into a relationship – was too much.

There were two major problems with this situation. First, Armin was still young and sweet and who did that bastard Jean think he was, kissing Armin anytime he felt like it and – Eren shuddered – he didn't even want to know what else Jean tried to do to corrupt his little brother. Second, who did that bastard Jean think he was?!

Jean slipped his arm around Armin's shoulder, pulling the boy even closer – ha, as if that were possible – before he was whispering into his lover's ear and Armin was blushing and there was no doubt in Eren's mind that that bastard had just said something perverted!

His first reaction was to leap across the room and knock Jean around some – teach him to know better then to try to coerce Armin into something indecent. Though the first time he had done that, it hadn't gone over well with Armin who had scolded him and damn had that sucked because he had just been looking out for the other boy's chastity.

Mikasa had told him to just let it be if they weren't doing anything too bad – though Eren's definition of too bad must be different because anything further than holding hands was a strict 'no' in his book. She had also said though, that if Jean did take things too far then Eren should interfere in a more subtle way. Eren really wasn't good at subtlety though.

"Eren!" Armin exclaimed happily when the boy dropped down from his bunk; Armin's excitement wasn't shared by Jean though, who scowled at him.

"Talking about the sea again?" he asked and the blond nodded excitedly, moving away from Jean some so he could properly talk to Eren.

"Yeah! Did you want to hear about it again?"

"Yup! Dinner will be starting soon though, so we can head there now and we can talk about all the things we'll do when we make it to the ocean together," Eren smirked at Jean – take that – before Armin was scrambling out of bed.

"Okay! Come on Jea—" was all the blond had time to say before Jean was lunging at Eren and tackling him to the floor.

"You bastard! You said that shit on purpose to make me jealous!"

Well Jean was right about that, but there was no way Eren was going to admit that.

"What the hell are you saying? I was just talking about a promise I made with Armin when we were kids!" It seriously sucked having Jean on top of him like this, the shithead was going to stretch his shirt out if he kept pulling on it like that. He really wanted to just sock Jean in the face but—

"Jean calm down! Stop it!" Armin yelled, before he was pulling at his boyfriend's shoulder and Eren took that as his chance to slip out from under him.

Heh. It felt incredibly nice watching Armin scold Jean like that.

"Come on Armin," Eren interrupted by throwing his arm over Armin's shoulder and steering him away from a glaring Jean, "Let's give him some time to cool down."

Armin hesitated, still unsure as to why Jean randomly exploded at Eren for no reason, before he was nodding, "Don't take too long," Armin called over his shoulder at Jean, whose lips were curled into an awkward grin – the tall boy obviously torn between smiling at Armin and scowling at Eren, who once Armin turned to face forward again, stuck his tongue out at Jean.

'Take that. Jean 0, Eren 1.' This whole subtlety thing worked really well – he'd have to thank Mikasa later.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I don't remember the exact prompt but it had to do with rimming and cum-play and basically PWP.

Mini-fill ahoy! I've never written anything like this, so it really didn't turn out in the way I'd hoped. Still, I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Jean's favorite part of making love to Armin was, surprisingly, after it was all said and done. There was something absolutely erotic about slipping his spent member out of Armin's twitching hole and watching his own pearl colored essence seep out along with it. Armin would shudder at the feel of it, and for Jean that only added to the appeal. Watching his cum drip down the blond's thighs and onto the sheets was such an enticing sight; proof that Armin was his - proof that only he could fill the boy to the brim like this.

Armin groaned tiredly, and Jean smiled fondly at his lover, leaning over him some so he could pat the top of his head, "You can't sleep just yet – I need to clean up," he whispered, placing a feather light kiss on his jaw before leaning back to admire his work once more. Fuck, Armin was beautiful. Though covered in a light sheen of sweat, chest heaving, and ass dripping cum made him that much more gorgeous. Jean felt his cock twitch, already half-hard from his earlier admiring of his lover.

Damn, he wanted to go at it again, but Armin really looked like he might pass out any moment – his eyes were half lidded and he was staring up at Jean with the cutest of expressions, which given the current circumstances was a bit obscene.

Absently, Jean ran his hands along Armin's inner thigh, tracing the soft skin with his fingertips as he continued to admire his handiwork, "Hey Armin – d'you think you could go another round?"

"But we've already done it twice," he rejected, though mewling softly nonetheless when Jean dipped his finger lower, scooping some of the cum up before slipping the tip of his finger inside Armin.

"We don't have to go all the way this time," Jean mumbled as he hoisted Armin's legs up a bit and leaned down to nip at the blond's inner thigh, before sucking on the sensitive flesh there – who moaned in response.

"God you're so sexy covered in my cum," and to help prove his point, Jean spread Armin's cheeks apart, tongue lapping at his cum, before he was sliding the appendage up and inside his lover – who rewarded Jean with a breathless pant.

"Don't—Don't say embarrassing things," Armin whimpered as he raised one of his arms to lay his forearm over his eyes, the other hand trailing down his body, fingers skating through the sticky droplets of cum on his stomach from his earlier orgasm –'god that was hot' Jean thought - before he was weaving his fingers through the short locks of Jean's hair.

The brunet shivered in pleasure – Armin was too damn sexy, "You got my hair dirty," he said as he retracted his tongue, before pressing his lips against Armin's backside in a gentle kiss, "Even though I was nice enough to clean you up,"

"I hardly call this cleaning," Armin panted.

Jean licked his lips, relishing in the taste of cum and sweat before he was dipping his finger inside Armin once more, entranced by the sight of more of his cum spilling out when he pulled his digit back out, "Your body's so lewd."

Armin huffed, tightening his grip in Jean's hair as he lifted his forearm some and squinted open an eye to peek down at Jean, who looked up at him and smirked, "You've become really perverted since we started doing this."

"I can't help it – you made me this way," was his response, before he was turning his gaze back to the space between Armin's legs – it really was a work of art. The way his cum seemed to glisten on Armin's thighs in the moonlight – the milky white color making the boy's normally pale skin seem tan. Some of the cum he had smeared around was beginning to dry and Jean sighed – easy come, easy go – he should probably actually start cleaning up now. The sun would be rising in a couple of hours, meaning if they wanted to get showered and clean before the other trainees would have to get up, they'd have to call it a night here and as much as he wanted to go another round - they both needed sleep.

"You're cute when you pout," Armin whispered, the barest hints of a smile tugging at his lips as he let go of Jean's hair and watched the taller boy sit up.

"Don't call me cute," the brunet groaned before he was plopping onto Armin, relishing in the way his cock glided against Armin's smooth thighs as he made himself comfortable on top of the other boy.

"But you are," Armin teased, hands tracing the muscle of Jean's back, "Now let's sleep a little bit and I'll reward you in the morning."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm just going to apologize right now: You requested a short AU. Unfortunately, I really liked the prompt and this monster was born. Sorry. xD

Oh and I thought Armin would look cute with glasses so… Yeah, just kind of shoved that in halfway through.

Also, I don't know how dates or conversations work – I sit at my computer all day writing porn. Sorry.

Seating chart: Mikasa A. —- Armin A. —- Sasha B. —- Marco B.

Reiner B. —- Bertolt H. —- Eren J. — Jean K.

Annie L. — Christa R. —Ymir —- -Connie S.

Not sure why I made a seating chart. I dunno.

* * *

For Armin, being kind to others came naturally. He was always the first one to offer a pencil to a fellow classmate, or return a fallen slip of paper. He liked being kind – no act of kindness was too small and he never expected anything in return. Just seeing the other party's gracious smile was enough.

Since he grew up in a small town, with the same classmates, he liked to think of everyone as a friend – even if the other person was not in his typical circle of friends. There was not a single person in his year that he did not get along with and he knew everyone's name, even if they did not know his.

So when Jean – the one who had been in his class for the past three years, the one who sat next to his best friend Eren (they sat alphabetically and much to both boys chagrin their names were right next to each other) – suddenly came up to him one day, Armin did not think it strange. It was true that they did not converse much, and when they did it was usually because Armin had stepped in between Eren and Jean's bickering – but Armin still considered Jean a friend, or at the least, an acquaintance.

It happened on a Wednesday morning during study period. Armin was sitting in Sasha's seat (said girl was sitting in his own and talking to Mikasa about things the ravenette couldn't care less about) and he was talking to Eren and Marco about this documentary he had seen last night on TV, when Jean entered the classroom holding a juice box and a can of coffee he had presumably gotten from the vending machine in the hall. The tall brunet stood in the doorway, staring at the foreign – or at least to him it was – scene, before slowly approaching the chatting trio.

"Here's your ice coffee," Jean muttered, before handing Marco the canned drink and slowly taking his seat next to Eren, "What's going on?"

Typically during the free period, Eren would go stand by the window next to Mikasa's desk and would chat with his two friends - though occasionally he would sit on Armin's desk – a sight that annoyed Jean to no end. Whenever that happened, Jean would loudly complain to Marco about how unfair it was that he was forced to sit next to Eren. Of course, Eren would hear him and he'd jump off Armin's desk and back towards Jean and the two boys would bicker for the duration of the period – but hey, at least he wasn't sitting so close to Armin anymore.

So for Armin to be sitting next to Marco and Eren to still be in his seat – well it was something Jean was not used to.

Marco took his drink with a chipper "thank you" before he was popping the tab, taking a sip, and then saying, "Armin was just telling us about this riveting documentary he saw last night!"

"… okay?" was Jean's response, as he looked at a clearly excited Marco and then an equally excited Armin and finally a – seriously? – also excited Eren. Jean was definitely weird-ed out. Since when were these three friends? Seriously, he'd only been gone a minute! If he had known it would be so easy to win Armin's favor, he'd have listened to the boy talk about boring ass documentaries sooner!

"You don't like those kinds of things do you Jean?" Armin asked and Jean didn't even have time to think of a response before Eren was cutting in.

"Of course he doesn't! His pea-sized brain doesn't even understand half the words you use!" the green-eyed boy laughed and Jean scowled because first – shut the fuck up Eren. And second – he did too understand Armin's expansive vocabulary, he just couldn't help but be stunned by how well of a public speaker Armin was. Honestly, he hadn't expected it from the reserved boy, and yet he was student council president - had even managed to snag the spot for himself in his first year.

"Shut up," the brunet practically hissed, "Armin wasn't talking to you."

Armin sighed as the two boys began to bicker – a sight he was used to. He just couldn't see why those boys refused to admit that they were friends – they may be practically yelling, but they were still holding a conversation. He bet if they stopped to think about, the two knew a lot about each other.

"Shouldn't we break them up?" Marco asked and Armin shook his head 'no.'

"Let's let them bond for a little bit. Anyway, we have a club meeting after class today – don't forget to come." He got up from his seat (or rather Sasha's seat) and bid Marco farewell before walking over to Mikasa and Sasha and striking up a conversation with the two girls.

Five minutes of bickering, and an almost fist fight later, Jean and Eren stopped to realize Armin had left and Marco had taken it upon himself to drink Jean's untouched juice box.

Eren pushed his chair back, the metal legs scraping against the tile floor, before storming off to his friends angrily and once he was across the room, Jean was snatching his juice box back – damn, it was empty too – and glaring at Marco.

"Since when were you friends with them?" he demanded (them mainly being a certain blue eyed blond) and Marco just laughed because wow had Jean really not noticed?

"Armin and I have been in the same class for three years and the same club as well. Plus I'm on the disciplinary committee, which interacts with the student council a lot. Jean you knew this."

"Well I've been in the same class as Armin this whole time too, but we aren't friends," he whisper yelled.

"That's just you," was Marco's response, "Armin thinks you two are friends."

"But we've never even talked!"

"Correction. He talks to you all the time and you either blow him off or you get distracted by Eren."

"What? You're bull shitting me Marco. When has that ever happened?"

Said teen just gave Jean his best dead pan look, "Well for starters – you did it just now when Armin was sitting with us."

Jean stared at Marco blankly and thought about it, thought about it really hard.

"You don't like those kinds of things do you Jean?"

"Shut up. Armin wasn't talking to you."

And right after that he had argued with Eren. But Eren had started it!

"Jaeger baited me!" he seethed, "So it's his entire fault!"

Marco merely shook his head, "It takes two to tango buddy. And Eren got you – hook, line, and sinker."

Son of a bitch.

* * *

That night, Jean decided he would talk to Armin, because if what Marco said was true then Armin was being super friendly and Jean was coming off as a douche that wanted nothing to do with him. Which wasn't true at all – it was the opposite of true!

So Thursday morning, before class, Jean walked up to Armin and said hey. Literally.

"Hey."

At the greeting, Armin looked up from the book he was reading and stared at Jean – a bit confused at first – before smiling brightly, "Hi Jean. Do you need something?"

"Uhh… No? I was just sayin' hey is all… Hey." Smooth.

But Armin didn't seem to find anything wrong with it – in fact he looked incredibly happy. Armin always looked happy, but the smile had never been directed his way – or at least not that Jean was aware of.

"Oh I see…" the conversation lulled for a bit, neither boy knowing what to say, and Jean not sure if he should walk away – after all, all he did was greet the boy. People typically tended to go about their business after wishing someone a good morning.

Jean panicked for a bit, wondering if he was bothering the boy, but Armin simply closed his book and set it down on his desk before saying, "I'm actually glad you approached me. I had something I wanted to talk to you about."

Armin reached for his bag, lifting it from the hook on the side of his desk, before he was setting it in front of him and digging through it briefly. He pulled out a sheet of paper with a soft "aha" before handing it to Jean.

"You've been flagged twice by the disciplinary committee for wearing your uniform incorrectly," Armin pointedly looked at Jean's lack of a tie and unbuttoned collar, "One more strike and Mr. Shadis will have your head."

Jean looked at the paper in his hand – a warning letter regarding his school attire and other stuff Jean didn't really care about, "I don't own a tie. And it's just a few buttons – this room is too stuffy without air conditioning." And to accentuate his point, he tugged at thin white fabric of his shirt – which was sticking to his skin slightly from the heat.

The action had Armin staring at his chest, and even though the blond boy meant nothing by it, Jean couldn't help the small blush that rose to his cheeks because Armin was looking at him. He may or may not have straightened his back and puffed his chest out a little bit – he was pretty proud of his body – might as well show it off.

"The student council already raised a formal complaint about the lack of AC at the last board meeting. The school board will be installing some in the classrooms next month. In the meantime, if the heat bothers you that much, I can ask Mr. Shadis if you and I can switch seats. I'm pretty close to the window so there is usually a nice breeze."

No. No, no, no. Absolutely not. There were so many things wrong with that. First, if he sat in the front, he would no longer be able to stare at the side of Armin's face during class. Second, that would mean Eren and Armin would be sitting next to each other and that douche hogged Armin enough as it was! The list went on!

"You don't have to do that – it's fine. I like my seat," Never mind the fact he openly complained every day about having to sit next to Eren, "Marco is close by."

"Oh, okay then. Well then please bear with the heat a little longer."

Jean smiled and jammed his thumb into his chest, "Something like this won't get me – I can handle it no problem."

"Says the boy who can't button his shirt properly because he claims it is too warm in here."

Touché.

"What can I say, I'm hot."

"Hot-headed maybe," Eren cut in and Jean felt like hissing – seriously, why did he just have to show up and interrupt his time with Armin?

"Oh you're one to talk," he responded and he probably would have gone on to insult the boy if he hadn't heard a small, almost inaudible sigh from Armin.

And then what Marco said the other day drifted to the front of his mind, "He talks to you all the time and you either blow him off or you get distracted by Eren."

Shit, it was happening again. But! It wasn't too late, he hadn't insulted Eren yet! He could still steer the conversation back to what he and Armin were talking about.

"Ar—" and then Shadis was walking in and barking for everyone to take their seats and that man was a hard-ass so Jean was forced to make his way back to his desk as Eren lingered by Armin's side to whisper something to him and that was that.

Once seated, Marco was leaning back in his seat, arms raised above his head – pretending to stretch – before inconspicuously dropping a note onto Jean's desk.

Did you ask him out?

Jean huffed, before scribbling 'No, not yet. I will at break.'

* * *

Jean waited until Eren left to go get drinks – he'd been watching the group of friends long enough to know that they alternate days on getting drinks – and the moment the boy was out of the room, Jean was out of his seat and crossing the room.

"Uh, hey Armin," he had only addressed the boy, but Mikasa had looked up as well – eyeing him warily.

"Hi Jean!" Armin greeted – gosh he was cute.

"Do you think I could talk to you for a moment," Mikasa was still staring, "Privately?"

"Oh sure," it was an instantaneous reply and made Jean wonder if the boy was used to people approaching him and asking to speak privately. Shit, did he have rivals? Jean quickly looked around the room, but no one seemed to even notice them, so maybe he was just being too paranoid.

Jean made his way out of the classroom, Armin trailing behind him, and once they were outside of seeing range of the doorway, he quickly turned to face the smaller boy, hands falling to rest on his shoulders – he needed to ask Armin out before someone (Eren) interrupted.

"Friday –after school. You should go with me."

Armin titled his head, confusion swimming through blue eyes, "Go where?"

"Out. We could go see a movie and eat or something. Or go shopping – whatever you want." Man, oh man was this embarrassing. He had asked a total of two girls out in his life time and neither of them had been as cute as Armin and Armin isn't even a girl and he didn't think he'd ever been this worried about being rejected. But then Armin was smiling, his right hand coming up to grab one of Jean's hands resting on his shoulder and the tall brunet thought he might have melted a bit inside because this was a sure sign the blond was going to accept.

"Okay then. Let's hang out tomorrow. I'd love that." What was that? Were the angel's choirs singing? No? Well they might as well have been, because Jean felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

The two boys exchanged numbers and agreed to meet outside the school gates at six(both boys decided they would stop at home first to change out of their uniforms and what not), before Jean was practically racing back into the classroom – leaving Armin in the hallway – to tell Marco the good news.

"Dude," Eren called – walking up to Armin with the drinks (he had been standing around the corner eavesdropping), "Did you just agree to go on a date with Jean?"

"What? No? He just wants to hang out." Was Armin's response – he reached for the strawberry milk he'd asked for, but Eren stepped back – keeping the drink out of reach.

"Yeah and horse-face over there is my best friend. I know you're blond and all Armin, but you of all people should be smart enough to know when a guy likes you."

And now Armin was laughing, "Jean doesn't like me. And he didn't ask me out either. I know you guys have a rivalry and what not, but you shouldn't spread rumors."

Eren merely shrugged, "Suit yourself, but don't say I didn't warn you. If that guy tries to lay a finger on you, I'll kick his ass for you."

"Whatever you say Eren, but that's not going to happen."

* * *

Inside the classroom, Jean ran over his conversation with Armin once more – god he was excited for tomorrow. To think it had been so easy! All he had to do was ask Armin on a date and the boy had agreed just like that – he had been so eager too!

"Okay then. Let's hang out tomorrow. I'd love that"

"Let's hang out tomorrow. I'd love that"

"Hang out tomorrow. I'd love that"

… Wait… Hang out?

Jean shook his head; 'nah' there was no way Armin misunderstood. Tomorrow was definitely a date.

* * *

Armin arrived at the school gate ten minutes early on Friday afternoon, dressed casually – he had his school bag thrown over one shoulder and was wearing glasses. A little known fact about Armin was he didn't have the best of vision, though he typically wore contacts. But he didn't like wearing them for prolonged periods of times and always put his glasses on once he got home. He was reading a small book as he waited – it was actually pretty interesting – so interesting that he didn't realize how much time had passed.

A quick glance at his phone – 6:13 – showed that Jean was late. He frowned before he was slipping his book into his bag and debating on if he should text Jean or not. To say he was disappointed was a bit of an understatement. He had been trying to get Jean to warm up to him for years, but the taller boy never seemed to give him the time of day. Armin hadn't let it bother him though, and had just assumed it was Jean's volatile relationship with Eren that kept them from getting along.

So when Jean started talking to him out of the blue, Armin thought maybe he had imagined the distance between them and that they really were acquaintances and just hadn't had the time to hang out. It only made sense for him to accept Jean's offer to hang out – as far as he was concerned, this was his chance.

And yet here he stood, waiting for Jean, who was now fifteen minutes late and Armin was staring at his phone sadly and convincing himself that Jean was just one of those people that always showed up late.

It was as he was typing a text to Jean, asking if everything was alright, that said boy jogged up. He was out of breath when he stopped in front of Armin and an apology was tumbling out from between the boy's lips. Once the brunet caught his breath, he gave Armin his most charming smile (though internally he was beating himself, because c'mon man, he had been looking forward to this date and even set the time and yet he was the one to show up late).

"Fashionably late I see," Armin mused aloud as he slipped his phone into his bag and Jean chuckled. Fashionably late alright – he had been so caught up in trying to find the perfect outfit that he ended up wasting more time than he had intended.

Jean opened his mouth to apologize again – this time properly – when he actually looked Armin in the face and holy hell is he wearing glasses? Why was Armin wearing glasses? Was he aware how cute and innocent those made him look? Jean tried not gasp – maybe Armin was wearing them BECAUSE he knew they made him look cute.

"You… Uh… I didn't know you wore glasses,"

"Huh? Oh yeah." Armin pushed the thin frames up the bridge of his nose, "I usually wear contacts, but glasses are more comfortable."

"I didn't know that. Cool."

The two stood silently for a moment, awkward on Jean's half.

"So what are we going to do?" Armin asked as they started walking aimlessly away from the school, hands gripping the strap of his bag.

"We could walk around the shopping district? Maybe get a bite to eat?" Way to go Jean. Talk about an extravagant first date.

"Oh sure!" Armin sounded pretty excited though, "The shopping district is pretty neat at dusk – all the lights come on and it's really pretty. Plus the weather is really nice right now too."

Well that was good news, and so the two headed there, chatting absently between themselves, window-shopping when Armin suddenly stopped outside a clothing store.

"We should get you a tie," Armin said and Jean shrugged – might as well. Maybe Armin could help him pick out the one he thought would look best on him. Yeah – that'd be nice.

The two entered the store, Armin heading straight for the men's section. Personally, Jean didn't like ties – felt they were too restraining – too dorky – and just too much effort to put on. Seriously, the things didn't even come with a manual and it was black magic trying to figure out how to tie one properly.

"Sooo… which one should I get?" Jean asked, referring to the wide variety of solid colors and patterns.

Armin broke into giggles suddenly and Jean had to glance around to make sure he hadn't missed something. What was so funny? Oh god it was him wasn't it? Was there something on his face?

Fortunately for Jean, the blond seemed to catch onto his confusion and frowned, "You weren't joking were you?"

He shook his head.

"Our tie is supposed to be the same color as our graduating class. Jean, how did you manage to go three years without getting in trouble for not having a tie?"

"Eh well, y'know… The teacher we had last year wasn't very strict, and the times I did get in trouble, I just had to do cleanup for like a week. It's not a big deal."

"If you say so…" Armin started at him a bit longer, seemingly a bit un-sure (he and Jean had such differing opinions) before he was reaching for a jade green tie and gently pulling it off the rack, "This one is the right shade."

Jean took it, holding it in his hand and just staring at it, "Uhm… thanks."

The two boys stood there, facing each other awkwardly, Jean shuffling his feet before Armin spoke up again, "You might want to try it on. Ties vary in length and width and so you want to make sure it looks okay."

Oh.

Shit.

"Well I don't have a collared shirt on, it'll be fine." Like hell he was going to admit that he didn't know how to tie a tie.

"That's alright, they have these collar pieces you can put on," and then Armin was handing him one and gesturing to the mirror next to the racks and now Jean was standing with the tie thrown around his neck and staring at his own horrified reflection.

'Alright,' he told himself, 'Just wing it – can't be too hard.'

Which would be a fine example of famous last words, because 'winging' it ended up with his fingers caught in a knot that logically made no sense – how cool was he? Armin just giggled – Christ that was cute – and proceeded to help un-do all of Jean's hard work, and then he was making up the tie effortlessly and all the red-faced Jean could think was, 'If we get married – everyday could be like this.'

After he got the okay – the okay being Armin patting his shoulder and saying 'The color really suits you' – Jean proceeded to grab two more ties and then eagerly make his way to the payment counter. If Armin thought he looked good with a tie, Jean would wear one every day.

Then the two made their way back out onto the streets, wandering around aimlessly and chatting about interests and your typical 'first date' material. At around 7:30, Jean suggested they stop to eat something and so they stopped at a cute outdoor French café and Jean proceeded to show off by fluently reading the menu and Armin had complimented him again and he paid for dinner – despite Armin's protests - and they sat at a table for two, enjoying their food and chatting idly.

Jean had learned so many things he hadn't known about Armin and Armin could definitely say Jean was a far nicer guy than he came off to be. When the conversation lulled, Armin sipping his tea from the straw, and Jean resting his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the table – the brunet stared dreamily at Armin and how kissable his lips looked and how the lamp light reflected off his hair and the way his eyelashes fluttered lightly against his cheekbones when he blinked and the way his eyes visibly lit up when he spoke of something he was particularly passionate about.

Armin's right hand was resting casually on the table – an invitation maybe? – and so Jean reached for it with his unoccupied hand – his fingers lightly dancing atop the blond's palm before he was grabbing his hand, intertwining their fingers – and Armin nearly choked on his tea.

Jean raised an eyebrow, amused by his reaction, and the blond busied himself with his drink – but returned the gentle squeeze of Jean's grip nonetheless.

"Dude, did you just agree to go on a date with Jean?"

Had he? Was Eren right? Armin tried not to panic – was this how dates worked? If he thought about it, it kind of seemed like a date, but why would Jean – of all people – ask him out on a date? It was exciting in its own right, but also dreadfully confusing. He'd never really thought of Jean in that way, but he wasn't opposed to it either. At the same time, he'd be awfully embarrassed if it turned out Jean was just a natural flirt and this really wasn't a date. Jean never said it was a date, and so it was better to play it safe and assume it wasn't. Even so, he continued to hold Jean's hand the rest of the night – sitting at a small outdoor café and talking for hours. Sometimes Jean would rub the pad of his thumb in circles on Armin's hands and it would tickle and so he'd smile and laugh and squeeze Jean's hand tighter. And sometimes Jean would place his other hand atop their hands and Armin would get embarrassed and so he'd put his other hand on top of Jean's hand and say "dog pile" and Jean would chuckle and it was a husky laugh that made Armin's heart thump erratically and before either of them knew it hours had passed and it was time for the night to end.

Jean walked Armin home, still hand in hand, and they had stopped at an ice cream parlor on the way back – Armin got strawberry and Jean vanilla – and Armin was fumbling one-handed with the last part of his cone before successfully stuffing it in his mouth.

And now they were standing on Armin's porch and the blond reluctantly let go of his hand, "Uhm goodnight. I had fun." And he kind of just wanted to go into his room and roll on his bed – maybe squeeze the life out of his pillow, but he also wanted to stay here with Jean and then suddenly Jean's hand – warm from holding his earlier – was cupping the side of his face and he was leaning down and drawing closer and 'oh god he's going to kiss me' and so Armin squeezed his eyes shut before his palms were pressing against Jean's chest and he was gently pushing the taller teen away.

Jean looked shocked – and maybe even a little hurt – but he stepped away, giving Armin his space and his hand fell to his side, "Sorry," he apologized, "Too soon?"

Armin just stared at his shoes, hands clenched, and taking a deep breath before he was looking Jean in the eye and asking, "Could it be… this was a date?"

And if Armin had thought Jean looked shocked before, he definitely looked shocked now, "Wh- Yeah. Of course it is. What did you… Did you not want it to be?"

And now they were both standing here, awkwardly shuffling their feet and Jean was waiting for an answer and Armin wasn't sure what to say because this was all so sudden and yet not at all. Tonight, it had obviously been a date. Well maybe it hadn't started like a date should – for one, Armin hadn't even gone in with the mentality of it being a date – but it definitely turned into one and had been – before Armin blew it – ending like one.

"It's not that," and his face was red and it was embarrassing to admit but, "I'm okay with it being a date, I just hadn't realized it was one… at first."

"Huh?" had he really not realized? Had he not been clear enough when he asked? He thought back to earlier in the week when he had thought Armin might have misunderstood, but he had assumed Armin would figure it out. Then again, Armin shouldn't have to figure it out – so he was partially to blame too. But then he thought back to their night, of handholding and flirting and did Armin think he did those kinds of things with everyone?

"At first… So you did realize eventually. You didn't realize just now though did you? Because I don't go around just holding anyone's hand and—"

"Oh no! I thought it was strange that you were being overly affectionate but I didn't want to get my hopes up or anything."

The awkward silence reigned once more, Armin tugging at the cuffs of his sleeves and Jean coughing into his hands.

"So… We're good then? All clear that this was, in fact, a date."

"… Yeah."

"… Good."

"Right, okay. Uhm… goodnight I guess?" and Armin stepped forward a bit, not sure what to do and so Jean stepped forward too and now came the question on if they were going to shake hands or hug or something. Armin kind of had his arm raised in hand shaking position but Jean wasn't sure and the both thought of how awkward it would be to handshake at the end of the date and now they were definitely in each other's personal space and abort mission! Shaking hands would be too weird and so Armin raised his hand higher to rub at the nape of his neck and shit Jean was still in handshake mode and so he flailed his arm out, the other one coming up parallel to his right and now his arms were in hug position and Armin was just kind of flopping face first into Jean's chest and the brunet patted his back with both hands. And then they stood like that – both red from embarrassment – before they were quickly separating, Armin with a nervous giggle and Jean clearing his throat.

"Yeah. Uhm – I had fun. We should… should do it again sometime," and his voice cracked and could this night get any more mortifying?

"Oh. Definitely. It'll be a date." Armin responded, just as flustered as Jean.

"Bye then," Jean nervously chuckled, before he was scratching the back of his head – he had to do something with his hands – and then turning on his heel and walking away.

"Wait!" Armin cried and Jean stopped immediately, half-turning to look back at Armin who was staring at his shoes once more, hands playing with the hem of his sweater, and glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

He took a deep breath, before he was snapping his head up – gaze determined – and then he was striding towards Jean and once he was standing right in front of him, he stood up on the tips of his toes – palms lying flat against Jean's chest – and pressing a chaste kiss against Jean's cheek.

"I don't kiss on the first date," he said as he pulled away, "So let's definitely do this again," and then he was stepping back – offering a small wave, before he was practically racing inside his house.

And Jean stood there, dazed, before his hand was coming up to touch the place Armin had just kissed, the skin tingling and he was red to his ears, "Best. Date. Ever."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This takes place sometime between their joining of the recon corps, and the female type titan arc.

This ended up being more of Armin comforting Jean about his doubts about having the potential to be a leader of sorts rather than Marco's death. I really couldn't figure out how to write Armin comforting the loss of a loved one without it just being Jean gross sobbing and Armin patting him on the back and telling him 'It'll be okay' over and over again.

Also, I wasn't able to put as much fluff as I had wanted to? But I feel it is more realistic this way?

Thanks for the prompt - I hope I did it justice.

* * *

It would be the highest honor to serve the King.

Honestly, there weren't people like that anymore. Nowadays people were pessimistic, selfish, cowards. Jean had thought everyone was like that. Or at least he imagined they were. When he looked in the mirror he saw a frightened teenager, playing up the confident and talented guy that was adept at everything he tried his hand at and aiming for the top ten. He had thought everyone was like that – no, he had known everyone was like that. The ones that said otherwise were liars – too weak to face the truth. He had deluded himself into thinking he wasn't one of those people. He could be strong if he could just save face. If he could play his cards right then he could land himself a spot in the military guard and live in the comfort of Wall Sina – wasn't that what everyone wanted? – or at least that's what he told himself.

He knew now that wasn't the case.

That's not to say people did not join the trainee corps merely for social status, and yet none of them seemed to be as frightened as he was.

Marco was kind to everyone; Jean knew he wasn't special. Marco was always encouraging others, he was the voice of reason in panic, the one who considered others well-being before his. Even now, Jean could not wrap his head around how Marco could be so selfless. How could anybody be that way in a cruel – every man for himself – type of world like this? Marco had called him weak – said in that sense they were alike. But Marco was wrong – he wasn't weak like Jean was. Marco was kind-hearted, honest, and strong – everything Jean was not. Sure Jean could train his body, but he was weak against fear. They all were; but none more so than Jean.

Jean buried his face in his hands – someone like Marco did not deserve to die. This world really was cruel – no one was safe from its wrath - death did not discriminate, and yet it seemed as if it held a preference for the pure-hearted.

"I admire Jean the most," a soft voice suddenly said and Jean flinched, before he was lifting his head and staring at Armin – who lingered in the doorway of their shared room before he was shutting it behind himself.

"—Is what Marco said to me one day." He finished, making his way to Jean – who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, back pressed against the frame of his bed.

"What the hell are you talking about?" it had been his intention for the words to be said in a threatening manner, but they came out raspy and his throat hurt from holding back tears.

Armin merely offered him a small, sad smile before he was sitting down next to Jean – their shoulders brushing – and pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs.

"He and I had been talking about what the future would be like. We talked about that a lot. I told him I respected him a great deal for striving for the military police for such a selfless reason…" Armin tilted his head back, head resting against the bed frame as he stared up at the ceiling, "He just laughed. Said it was no big deal. He said, 'If you should respect anyone – it should be Jean' and then I laughed too – but not for the same reason he was."

Jean's eye twitched because surely Armin had just insulted him, "You—"

"You shouldn't get mad. You understand where I am coming from don't you? You are physically strong and adept at using your maneuver gear – I can respect that. At that time though, I couldn't possibly fathom why Marco would imply that you were better than him."

Was Armin trying to make him feel better? – Jean tugged at the straps around his thigh in anger – Cause Armin sucked at it.

"I admire Jean the most," Armin repeated, "Because he is strong enough to know he is weak – even if he can't admit it out loud."

Jean bit his lip - that sure sounded like something Marco would say – the boy had been painfully blunt at times.

"I think what Marco was saying was that it takes a great amount of courage to accept that you are weak and then put the effort forth to do something about it. To Marco, it is easier – mentally and emotionally – to be driven by faith than by fear. He respected you and thought you were strong in the sense that you had been able to endure so long – to make it so far when the only thing that drove you forward was self-loathing. I can relate to that. It's painful to hate yourself. But you aren't the only one being hurt I learned – the people that love you find it to be painful too."

Armin lifted his head, and allowed himself to look at Jean who was staring wide eyed – shoulders trembling and hands shaking.

"You knew Marco better than I did, so if I can see it, then you should be able to too. Marco really wanted to watch you grow. He told you didn't he? That you could be a hero – that you had potential. That's what's been driving you forward these last few months isn't it?" Armin squeezed his legs tighter, before leaning forward so he could rest his cheek on his knees, face turned towards Jean – who was looking down at him and slowly nodding 'yes' to the blond's question.

"I think Marco would be happy to know that. But Jean, it is okay to cry you know. No one will think you are weak for it. It'd better to let it out, and I'm not just saying that because I cry a lot," Armin chuckled a bit and Jean let out his own choked laugh that was borderline a sob, "If you cry you aren't letting anyone down – crying isn't something you do because you are weak. It's something you do when you are ready to move on – when you are ready to take that step out of your comfort zone. It's okay to admit you are afraid. You can't overcome your fears and guilt unless you face it head on."

Jean was silent, and Armin watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed down the urge to start bawling, "What about you?" What do you think of me?

"I think Marco was right," Armin sat up, and lowered his knees so he could turn to face his body towards Jean, his left hand falling to rest on Jean's knee, "You really are weak. But you're admirable too and stronger than you seem. I don't know what I'd have done if I didn't have Eren or Mikasa to support me. But you stood up on your own – endured for so long without crumbling from the weight of all that self-doubt and fear and guilt." Armin offered a gentle smile – eyes falling shut with the motion – hand squeezing Jean's knee gently, "You're pretty awesome Jean."

"Yeah," Jean croaked, "I'm pretty awesome" and then he was sharply sucking in a ragged breath and that was it. The dam broke and the tears started and like a chain reaction, Jean tossed his arms around Armin's shoulders – the two of them toppling to the floor.

Armin gasped in surprise, the hand he had on Jean's knee trapped between their bodies and his other one clutching the back of Jean's shirt from where he had tried to catch himself the moment Jean decided to tackle him to the floor.

Jean had his face buried against his neck, chin digging into his shoulder as the taller boy sobbed – and he could feel the tears soaking his shirt and Jean was probably getting snot in his hair – but he didn't have the heart to push him away so he ran his hand up and down Jean's back – offering a soothing touch as the brunet shuddered above him.

"I don't" Jean rasped, "want you to see me cry," and Armin simply nodded.

"That's fine," he said, "I'm here. Just let it all out. It's okay."

And Armin laid there, listening to Jean cry as he babbled about Marco and how he so great and how he wished he could be that great and how Marco shouldn't have died, and he continued to lie there until the tremors had stopped and Jean had drifted into an exhausted sleep.

And even when his arm had grown numb and the floor uncomfortable – all of Jean's weight pressing down on him – he ran a delicate hand through chestnut colored locks, intent on comforting Jean even in his dreams.

"Really," he whispered, "You're even more of a crybaby than I am."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank God your Alive sex was the prompt

* * *

Armin bit his lip, eyes squeezed shut and hands curled in the bed sheets, as Jean hovered above him – making fast work of practically tearing off his clothes as Jean nipped, sucked, and bit at his neck – each assault that much harder and that much more desperate than the last.

"I. Need. You." Jean rasped, voice thick from choking back his sobs, his tongue traced Armin's collarbone before sucking harshly on the skin right below the protrusion, shaky hands fumbling with the buttons on Armin's shirt before he was grunting in anger and grabbing ahold of either side of the shirt and then yanking the cloth apart – buttons popping off the fabric and flying in multiple directions.

"Jean!" Armin cried out in shock, eyes snapping open to look at the panting boy above him – and he probably would have scolded him too if those amber eyes weren't so full of desperation – pupils racing frantically as the panic had yet to recede.

_It was amazing how such a simple mission could go so wrong so fast - in a blink of an eye everything had just come crashing down. Smiles of confidence, celebratory cheers all turned to the single familair cry of "Jean" until it faded into an ear ringing silence. _

Armin offered his best smile, cringing slightly when the upturning of his lips caused his jaw to ache – Jean seemed to catch the motion as his eyes widened before he was kissing Armin's chest, hands tracing every muscle, fingers digging into his ribs, and mouth sucking on a rose colored nipple. Armin's normally pale skin was littered in bright red blemishes – large bruises that covered his torso – that had yet to darken to the sickly purple black they would surely turn to in a few days' time. Jean was more careful around these splotches, his palms lightly ghosting over the damage there and releasing any sort of pressure if Armin so much as hissed in pain.

"Oh god Armin," Jean whined, assessing each bruise with the utmost scrutiny before placing a feather light kiss on each one, "There's so many."

_Jean could only watch in horror as Armin lunged at him- crashing into him as he swung – throwing the brunet off balance and sending him flying to the forested ground._

As soon as the once-over of his chest was done, Jean was un-doing his belt and leg straps – cursing under his breath when he wasn't able to unclip them as fast as he wanted to. He threw the belts aside before un-doing Armin's jeans and then practically yanked them off, the blond boy crying out in pain when they got caught on his right ankle.

"I'm sorry," Jean gasped, trying to slip off the pants as carefully as possible and once they were gone he was lightly grabbing Armin's right calf and raising his leg so he could press a tender kiss to the swollen ankle from where it had undoubtedly been sprained. Once that was done, whispered apologizes in between kisses and licks, Jean took the time to survey trembling legs – old yellow bruise lines around his thighs from where he always wore his straps, and small scrapes and red bruises everywhere else Jean looked.

"Armin," he whispered, repeating the process of licking and kissing and touching every part of Armin – searing the feel and taste and scent and look of Armin's body into his mind – every sense a reminder that Armin was still here – still alive – still with him.

_And everything was in slow motion, he could see the ground coming and when he hit and rolled, the sound came back and there were his grunts and the sounds of him skidding before he was lying on his back and he was staring at the sky – a stormy blue._

He licked a hot trail up Armin's inner thigh – who panted breathlessly – as he slipped his thumbs into the waistband of the boy's boxer shorts, before gently pulling them down Armin's thighs and off his legs. He pressed his lips to his lightly bruised thighs; murmuring against his skins whispered apologizes and promises to keep him safe.

His hand shook as he wrapped it around the base of Armin's half-erect member, lightly pumping as he worked it to full stance as he sucked the salty skin of his thigh before he was pressing a kiss atop the tip of Armin's member.

The blond gasped, hands still curled in the sheets, head thrown back, when Jean hollowed his cheeks and slid his mouth down, sucking him further into his mouth – doing his best to fit as much in as he could – to taste as much as he could – to feel every vein and twitch of his arousal as Jean rubbed his tongue against it before drawing his mouth back up and then sliding back down. The brunet swallowed around the head of the member before he was relaxing his jaw and tasting every last bit of Armin – until his nose was buried in blond curls and the battered boy was crying out in pleasure as Jean sucked – drool dripping from Jean's mouth when he pulled back up, swirling his tongue around the tip before he pulled his mouth off and slipped his fingers into his mouth. He licked and sucked and coated them with saliva as quick as he could, one hand massaging Armin's cock before Jean removed his fingers from his mouth, and pressed the tip of one of his fingers against Armin's entrance, rubbing gentle circles on the puckered skin before he was slipping a finger inside. He licked the underside of Armin's cock, lapping at the appendage as he worked another digit inside of his lover who was whining and mewling and squirming and god every sound – every move – made Jean's heart race – heart thudding in his chest as he thought about how he had almost lost this.

By the time Jean was able to easily pump three fingers in and out of Armin, the brunet was already at his breaking point. He rose up on his knees, and unzipped his pants before roughly tugging his member from his pants – no time to try to take his clothes off. His left hand massaged Armin's backside gently, mindful of any bruising, as he spit into his hand a couple times before palming his erection – coating it as best he could with his poor excuse for lubricant. But there was no time – he needed to feel Armin now or he would explode.

_His impact with Armin raced to the front of his mind and he was rolling to his hands and knees and there Armin was – lying lifeless on the ground in front of him. The titan that had swatted him down was dispatched quickly by a faceless solider as Jean scrambled to the blond – head dripping blood and eyes shut._

"I'm sorry – I can't hold on anymore," Jean gasped before he was guiding the head of his cock to Armin's stretched hole, rubbing the tip against the sensitive area, smearing driblets of pre-cum against him before he was pressing forward – sliding inside. Armin whimpered and Jean apologized once more, hand still rubbing soothing circles, until he was all the way in – chest heaving and eyes dripping with tears.

"Jean," Armin gasped, unfurling one his hands from the sheets as he propped himself up on his elbows, one hand reaching to caress the side of Jean's face who looked up at him with watery eyes.

"I thought I lost you," he choked on a sob before he was jerking forward and kissing Armin – sucking on his bottom lip as he pulled out and then slid back in with a groan. Armin wrapped his arms around Jean's shoulders – pulling him into a hug as Jean pushed his down on his back again, one arm holding himself up while the other came to hold the side of Armin's face as he jerkily slid in and out of Armin.

_"No, no, nononono," he was shaking so much, so weak, that it took all of his will power to pull the blond into his arms – eyes racing as he surveyed the damage – looking for a rise and fall of his chest – for a sign of life._

"I love you," he cried, burying his face against Armin's neck, "Don't – don't leave me."

"Please don't – I can't – I wouldn't be able to take it,"

Armin tightened his grip around Jean, his own tears falling from his eyes as Jean took him, "I love you – I love you too,"

He could feel his orgasm building up – and Jean knew he couldn't last much longer – not like this – not when he was so desperate and so in need of just feeling every last inch of a living, breathing, and in his arms Armin.

"Promise you won't leave me – promise you won't die," he begged – even though he knew it was not a promise Armin could make, he still needed to hear it.

"I-I'll try not to," was Armin's sobbed response and Jean shook his head frantically.

"No! Armin you have to promise. Don't ever do something so reckless again - please, please." He lifted his head to look the blond boy in the eyes, who nodded his head yes – hair damp with sweat sticking to the sides of his face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Jean." He cried and that was enough for Jean – he could hear the un-spoken promise to be more careful – to be safe – to stay with him – here – as long as possible.

He pulled Armin into a kiss once more, hips jerking, before he was cumming – a breathless shout of Armin's name falling from his lips before he catching his breath as he sat up, the hand that was caressing Armin's cheek falling to his member where he stroked it roughly before Armin was crying out too – seed spilling on his stomach.

Jean shakily pulled out, cum seeping out along with his cock before he was collapsing next to Armin and then pulling the injured boy onto his chest where he pet his hair and kissed him atop his head.

"I thought you were dead," was his raspy confession and Armin tilted his head up to kiss his chin.

"I know – I'm sorry,"

Jean squeezed his sides gently, before burying his nose in golden locks and just breathing in the scent that was Armin – of old books and soil and sweat and soap – before whispering, "I thought you had left me."

_And it was there. _


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Writer's block. Writer's block the size of wall Maria. Okay. So pre-established relationship – they are in the scouting legion – and it's a slight AU because it doesn't really follow the plot of the manga. Yeah.

I'm going to just apologize because I am not very happy with this. I had so much trouble, and I don't even know why. I must have re-written it a million times and guh. This is the end result.

And man I just realized they didn't actually have sex. Gah. I'm sorry.

* * *

Armin had been the one to establish the 'no morning sex' rule – said there wasn't enough time to fully enjoy themselves, as well as properly clean up. There was also the risk that someone could walk in on them and since that was the last thing Jean wanted to happen he had no problem agreeing to the rule. So Jean was genuinely – one could not stress that word enough – surprised when he woke up to probably the most incredible blow job of his life.

"Armin," he choked in surprise once he was sure this wasn't the most realistic wet dream he'd ever experienced and that his lover was in fact positioned between his legs, tongue tracing the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock with practiced ease, one hand massaging his inner thigh while the other was curled around the base of his erection.

"Good morning," the blond greeted casually – as if this were an everyday occurrence – before going back to the task at hand and wrapping his lips around the head of Jean's erection and sliding the appendage fully into his mouth.

"I-I'm not saying I don't like the special treatment," Jean gasped for air as Armin pressed his tongue flat against him, cheeks hollowed as he slid his mouth up and down, "But what's the occasion."

It was awhile before Armin responded – not that Jean minded – as the blond continued about his business; sucking and licking and nipping and Jean gripped the bed sheets roughly, knees locking in the effort to not just start thrusting upwards.

"It's nice to have a change of pace every once in a while," Armin responded after he'd released Jean's cock – absently wiping at the drool that dribbled down the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," was Jean's croaked response, his right hand unfurling from the bunched sheets and raising to plop atop Armin's head, where he gently nudged the boy's mouth back to the "situation" at hand.

Armin seemed to have something else in mind however, as he grabbed Jean's hand from his hair and intertwined their fingers before he was rising up on his knees and leaning over Jean so he could plant a sloppy kiss on his lover's lips – gently squeezing his lover's hand before he was pulling away and climbing off the bed.

Jean watched as Armin walked across the room, and lightly palmed his erection while he waited for Armin to return with lube, only for the blond to start slipping on his uniform.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting dressed – I'll have to brush my teeth again too."

The taller boy sat up in alarm, "But I'm not finished." He whined in need – a plea that seemed to go ignored by Armin who simply smiled at him like he hadn't just given him amazing head only to leave him hanging just as he'd be on the verge of orgasm.

"You should hurry up," Armin replied nonchalantly, "Role call is in five minutes," and then he was out the door and Jean was scrambling to get ready – the Corporal would have his ass on a platter if he was late.

That had been the first "incident" – as Jean had come to call them throughout the course of the day – and when Jean had questioned Armin about it the moment he had a bit of free time, the blond had simply blown him off – probably not the best choice of words – and acted like this morning hadn't happened.

The second incident was – thankfully – not as extreme as the first, but had still left Jean hot and bothered. Then again it was to be expected – of course he'd get excited if his boyfriend suddenly decided to jump him in an abandoned corridor and start making out with him. He was still unsatisfied from the stunt Armin had pulled that morning and so he couldn't help it that he wanted to take the boy then and there. But of course, much like this morning, Armin had abruptly left him.

Armin's odd behavior continued throughout the day – a kiss here – a touch there – and Jean was on the verge of losing it. He was hot, bothered, confused and damn it if he didn't want to return the favor.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, Jean had reached the breaking point of his resistance and so when Armin finally joined him in their shared room (Jean had been pacing back and forth for minutes now) looking the epitome of innocent – something Jean had learned Armin definitely wasn't over the years – the brunet was practically flying across the room and pinning Armin to the door he had just shut moments ago.

"You think you're real cute, don't you?" he accused, though it sounded more like a whine than a threat. Apparently however, the words had been just what Armin had wanted to hear as he smiled up at Jean in a way that had the taller boy incredibly annoyed but keening with need all the same.

Armin did not respond – the question had been figurative anyway – in favor of standing on the tips of his toes and leaning up to kiss Jean who met him half way in a rough kiss, so very different from their day to day kisses – heavy with want and need and Armin whimpered against his mouth because it was everything he'd imagined it'd be and more.

It would be an understatement to say Armin had been hinting at Jean to be a little rougher with him for quite some time now– an understatement because he'd been practically begging for it for months – since Jean proved he had an amazing self-restraint when it came to Armin. Jean seemed to have this mindset that Armin could not handle the rough treatment he wanted and it, quite honestly, annoyed Armin to no end. He wasn't glass – he wouldn't break and the fact that Jean seemed to think otherwise made Armin want to prove him wrong all the more. So Armin had adopted the habit of trying to coerce Jean into it – something he had thought would be easy – Jean was a guy after all, why wouldn't he want to have a little more fun in bed? But Jean was either a saint (impossible) and honestly found no appeal whatsoever in dominating Armin (again something Armin believed to be impossible – this was Jean after all) or he was cruel and he liked seeing Armin beg for more.

Jean pulled away with a grunt before he was nipping at Armin's neck, one of his hands that had pinned Armin's wrist to the door finding purchase in soft blond locks, "You're going to finish what you started," he growled and Armin shivered in anticipation. Jean stepped back from the door, right hand pushing atop Armin's head and that was all the prompting the blond needed before he was sliding to his knees and eagerly reaching for Jean's zipper.

"Thank god," Jean sighed in relief as Armin pulled his erection from his pants – lightly bulging veins riddled across his member, head dripping copious amounts of pre-cum – a tribute to how badly he wanted this. With one hand still curled in blond locks, Jean wrapped his other hand around his cock where he proceeded to glide the tip of his member down the side of Armin's face – leaving behind a trail of pre-cum from his hair line down to his jaw. He slid it up once more, before pressing himself against rosy lips that opened immediately in welcome and eagerly took as much of his lover inside as possible.

There was a brief moment of hesitation on Jean's part, before he was tightening his grip on Armin's hair and tugging the smaller boy's head back – who hollowed his cheeks and tightened his mouth as much as he could around Jean's shaft while also trying to relax the back of his throat – and then jerked him forward.

Jean continued to thrust into Armin's mouth, gasping and shuddering at the feel of it – because this was vastly different from the teasing licks and nips he was used to and the new sensation coupled with the teasing he had endured all day alerted Jean that he wouldn't be lasting very long.

Armin, for his part, was breathing harshly through his nose - saliva dripping freely from his mouth – and constantly swallowing in an effort to not gag around the cock sliding in and out of his mouth. Surpringly, Armin found that he actually liked the rough treatment – a bit worrying if you asked him because it was getting kind of hard to breathe. And Jean either noticed this, or decided he was done with fucking Armin's mouth, as he pulled Armin off his cock who immediately gasped for air – more saliva sliding down the corners of his mouth. The panting blond looked up at Jean who rather than looking at him, had his eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack.

"Jean," Armin started to say, only to silence himself when Jean started furiously pumping his shaft – using Armin's excess saliva to slide his hand hard and fast. It wasn't long before Jean was keening in pleasure and then with a barely intelligible shout of 'Armin' he was coming on the blond's face – Armin shutting his eyes in shock. Once Jean's grip in his hair loosened, Armin cautiously opened one eye – the one not covered in cum – to look up at Jean.

"I'm – I'm sorry," his lover panted, staring down at him with flushed cheeks, before he was pulling his handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabbing at Armin's face – wiping away any and all traces of what he'd just done with the utmost care – far gentler than he had been mere moments before.

"It's okay," Armin stated matter of factly – nuzzling into Jean's hand, "I liked it."

Jean took a couple more deep breathes before asking, "It's what you wanted right? You wanted me to be rough with you yeah? That's why you did those things you did?"

Armin blinked in shock, before he was smiling softly, "Yes."

His goal had been to sexually frustrate Jean until the taller boy couldn't help but accidentally be a bit rough – to not hold back for once. Which he supposed worked in a sense, but here Jean was – petting his hair softly and caressing the side of his face; being his usual gentle self after being a bit rough for Armin's sake. Because it was what Armin wanted.

Admittedly, Jean hadn't taken it as far as Armin would have liked, but he supposed this was enough for now. Jean would warm up to the idea eventually, and he figured he could wait a bit longer.

"Thank you Jean," he whispered and Jean gave him a tired, lop-sided grin – still petting Armin softly. Yeah, Armin supposed he could wait. A gentle Jean wasn't bad either.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Okay, so the way this AU works, they still live within the walls and it's still the same year and what not, except there aren't titans and humanities greatest threat is the evil within people. Or something like that. That being said, dead bodies are actually carted outside the walls and disposed of there and the graveyards are just plaques. Or something. And he lives in Wall Sina because his grandfather and his family are rich/smart people and so yeah.

* * *

The sun was bright – a white hot ball of plasma millions of miles away and yet still fiery enough to make the day one of sweltering heat. Not a single cloud could be seen in the blue sky above and so there was no shade to take refuge under. Armin wiped his forehead with his handkerchief with a sigh, before he was wringing the white piece of cloth in his hands in a mix of frustration and sorrow and wondering why funerals called for formal attire in the shade of black. The day was stuffy and even more so with the added addition of his blazer and a tie that was too tight and so the small boy wasn't sure if it was the dress wear or if it was the warm breeze that was suffocating him. He choked back more tears and swiped at his nose – sniffling all the while and Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Why did you have to die?" he asked – but what was intended to be a harsh demand came out as a crackled plea and Armin's shoulders trembled as he dry sobbed.

Armin Arlert was the grandson to a famous theoretician whose research had earned him names ranging from "genius professor" to "bloody heretic". His work was either widely renowned or greatly mocked and almost always controversial. As far as twelve year old Armin was concerned, there was nothing dangerous about his grandfather's profession and he certainly did not see his ideas something worth dying over. And yet here Armin was – attending a funeral for his late grandfather and feeling unbearably lost.

'Why?' he wondered; a question he found himself asking every other second – why did you have to die? Why did someone kill you? Why would you go so far to protect theories and thoughts? Why would you leave me all alone?

It just didn't make sense to Armin. Maybe he was naïve or maybe he wasn't as smart as he had thought, but he could not comprehend why this had to happen.

'The world is a cruel place,' Armin thought as he stared down at his grandfather's gravestone, 'I can't make it alone… Not without you… What will become of me?'

As if answering Armin's unvoiced thoughts, a large hand fell roughly on his shoulder and Armin looked up at the brunette woman next to him, who squeezed his shoulder with enough pressure to make the frail boy cringe, and offered him a kind smile, "Your grandfather was a brilliant man," she said and Armin tore his gaze away from the pitying eyes above him in favor of staring at the headstone once more.

"And yet not brilliant enough to stay alive," he muttered and the women just frowned.

"I suppose you are right," she said, before she was using her grip on Armin's shoulder to steer him away from the freshly filled grave, "But we can save that matter for another time. Come Mr. Arlert – we have much to talk about."

* * *

That had been five years ago and the brunette women who had approached him went by the name Hanji and had been a pupil of his grandfather back when he still taught. The large three-story home Armin had lived in had been the home of the Arlert family for many generations and as such was passed down to him upon his grandfather's passing. But a home like that could hardly be maintained by a young boy such as Armin, no matter how mature he seemed to be for his age, and so at his grandfather's wills prompting; Hanji took custody of the young Arlert and moved into the home with him. Hanji was an eccentric woman, full of ideas and passion and she could talk someone's ear off and though Armin had not met her prior to his grandfather's funeral he warmed up to her quickly. She spent much of her time doing research, much like his grandfather and so Armin did not find her to be a nuisance, despite her need to occasionally track him down and insist on telling him about her latest findings.

Armin had always been intrigued by his grandfather's work, and though he knew of it he could hardly say he could comprehend it. Hanji saw no problem with teaching him about this and that and often asked Armin for his opinion and though he was young he often provided helpful insight. He was a prodigy and had a knack for spotting details and coming up with theories other scientists might have ruled out.

And so curious about what was so controversial about his grandfather's work that someone would be driven to murder him, and proficient in the subject himself, Armin threw himself into his grandfather's abandoned work with the aid of Hanji and became the top theoretician for his age.

And so with his academic success and releasing of his first book, came the first death threat. Armin couldn't quite comprehend it. What was so bad about what he had to say? Should a human life be condemned for voicing one's opinion? He did not think so. But there were people in this world who did not seem to agree.

The death threat scared him, but not because someone wanted him dead. Rather because a certain population of humanity seemed to find death the answer to the things they could not comprehend or that they disagreed with. What was becoming of them? It was another question Armin desperately wished to know the answer to.

And even though Armin spent the majority of his time doing nothing but passing time in the garden flicking through books and jotting down notes and had asked Hanji not to, claiming he was perfectly safe, the brunette women still set about hiring a body guard for him.

The man Hanji hired, in Armin's opinion, could hardly be called a man at all as he was only the young theorists senior by one year. And while Armin could admit that he was taller, more muscular, and sturdier built than Armin could ever dream to be – he seemed hardly qualified for the job. His name was Jean and he was rude, cocky, and upon meeting him Armin feared they would never get along. Not because Armin wasn't willing to try (although in all actuality the only reason why he decided he'd try to get along with the brute was because Hanji was forcing him to stay by his side whether he liked it or not) but rather because their personalities were vastly different and weren't body guards supposed to be silent? Jean seemed to have missed the memo though, as after dealing with him for a week Armin had learned the man could hardly keep his comments to himself and almost always had something insulting to say about Armin's preferred way of living.

"Reading?" Jean asked as he jumped down from the tree branch he had been perched on, "Again?"

Armin glared up at him from his lounging position in the grass – he had several books scattered around him, all of which were open and had notes in short hand scribbled in the margins and underlined paragraphs.

"If you must know," Armin responded, turning back to the book in his hands, "Some of us like to read to pass the time."

"That's all you do," Jean said as he leaned against the base of the tree not seeming to mind he was getting his suit dirty. His suit was all black, plain and cheap and Armin hated it. It reminded him of funerals and he didn't see why the older man insisted on wearing such formal attire. Was it an assigned uniform? Or maybe Jean thought he looked good in it. Knowing how vain he could be, Armin wouldn't doubt it if he did.

"Is that a crime?" he drawled and Jean grunted a barely distinguishable 'no' before he was glancing at the watch around his wrist.

"It's time to eat," he said and Armin shut his book with a snap before he was twisting some to look up at Jean once more.

"I'm not hungry," Armin, for his part, did not have much of an appetite – it had always been that way and he did not see a problem with it, but Jean seemed to. The bigger man was always nagging him about how he hardly ate enough and Armin distinctly remembered Hanji hiring him as a body guard and not a nutritionist – as far as he was concerned, Jean was supposed to be protecting him from intruders – not a poor diet.

Armin glared up at the older man defiantly, who returned the look with one of a skeptism before he was raising his arms and shrugging his shoulders.

"Alright," he said, "Suit yourself."

And that was all the warning Armin got before Jean was squatting and grabbing Armin's under arms and hoisting him onto his shoulder.

"Jean, put me down!" Armin screeched, flailing against the stronger man's hold, who merely grunted and tightened his grip around Armin's waist.

"Don't be so stubborn, I'm just doing you a favor."

"I don't need any favors; I can take care of myself."

* * *

That had probably been one of the first times the two had had a conversation that wasn't one-sided, because more often than not, it was Jean bragging about his skills as a body guard and Armin humoring him. Armin liked his peace and quiet; it was something he was used to, something he had grown up in, and something he had taken for granted before Jean took up permanent residence at his side.

Again, it wasn't that he disliked Jean; it was just that the man was abrasive and rude and personality wise was practically the complete opposite of Armin. The main thing really was Jean's job. He didn't have anything against bodyguards and their chosen professions; he just didn't want one. He could take care of himself; he had always taken care of himself growing up. It had been just him and his grandfather and once Armin was old enough to cook and bathe unsupervised and other things like that, he did and it became second nature for him to wake up and make breakfast for himself and his grandfather. In school related matters, he rarely asked his grandfather for help and even if he had, his grandfather always somehow turned it into a lecture on problem solving. So yes, Armin did not like that Jean was supposed to be taking care of him; he wasn't a kid. And it didn't help that Jean couldn't keep still and somehow took his body guarding job and morphed it into some weird at-home nanny service.

Seriously, the man wouldn't let Armin stay up too late reading and forced Armin to eat everything on his plate – which wasn't fair at all because Jean was always leaving behind his own vegetables, usually of the green variety - and overall was being doting and it was a total nuisance.

And yet, the longer Jean stayed, the more Armin found himself not minding the older man's presence and dare he say it, actually enjoying the conversations they shared. As Armin opened up more, Jean softened a bit – becoming less rude by the days, or maybe Armin was finally learning how to speak 'Jean' and understand just what the man meant.

Before Armin knew it, months had passed and he found himself seeking out Jean's company and genuinely enjoying another person's company rather than immersing himself with books.

Sure, he spent time with Hanji, but she was an enigma like his grandfather and pretty much stayed on the third floor of their shared home almost constantly and it never ceased to amaze Armin how two people could live in the same house and rarely see one another.

"So," Jean started one evening as the two sat at dinner alone, Armin picking at his carrots and Jean was torn between telling him to eat every last one or steal a couple for himself, "You and Hanji look nothing alike. Is she your cousin or something? I thought she was your mom but-"

Jean wasn't able to say much more as Armin burst into a fit of giggles, hands coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, no. My mother? If she heard you say that she'd probably hit you."

Armin speared a baby carrot with his fork and raised it to his face, twisting it in the light in front of his face, before sighing and setting his fork back down.

"Hanji took me in after my grandfather died," Armin explained and Jean sat up straighter in his seat, "I actually hadn't even met her before the funeral. She was one of my grandfather's pupils and thanks to his will and some legal work; she became my guardian and moved into this house with me."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Jean said as he stabbed a couple of Armin's carrots before shoveling them into his mouth, "But I didn't know that. I thought for sure you two were related."

"It's alright… Why is that?"

"Well… y'know."

"Actually I don't, I can't read minds." Armin dead-panned.

Jean blushed, "It's probably cause how scared she sounded when she hired me."

Armin turned to look at Jean in shock, "What?"

"Well not anybody can just hire a body guard. It costs lots of money and even then the company does background searches to ensure the legitimacy of it all. And so when I met Hanji after I had been hired, she just… it seemed like she really cared about you when she talked about you."

"Oh," Armin said, and now he was blushing too, "I… I didn't know she felt that way."

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Armin staring at his plate and Jean cleaning said plate, with his mouth playing the role of garbage disposal.

"I'm glad you told me that," Armin said after a while, surprising Jean, "It makes me really happy."

And really, it did. It made him really happy; for the first time in a long while.

Jean watched Armin fidget, a small smile on the smaller boy's lips – the one reserved for when the boy was lost in his world of books and Jean couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride that yeah, he had – albeit on behalf of Hanji – caused that smile.

"You should smile like that more often," Jean said and Armin looked up at him, cheeks red, and lips still upturned in a gentle smile, "You look really cute."

And just like that Armin's smile was gone – face ever redder than before – and he was scooting his chair back with a screech before abruptly standing up and grabbing his plate, "Uhm it's really late – I should get to bed!"

And Jean nodded his head rapidly; his own face flushed a red that could rival Armin's own, "No – yeah – definitely. Me too. Good night!"

And just like that Armin was gone and Jean was left to sit in the dining room and wonder what the hell he had just been thinking.

* * *

That night, Armin lie awake in bed, mind furiously running over his conversation with Jean. It had started off normally, nothing odd at all and then it delved into family matters – nothing too intrusive, though definitely not something the two would have talked about a couple of months ago. And then Jean had said those nice things about Hanji and a part of Armin didn't believe it, but he wanted to and it wasn't like Hanji was cold to him and he supposed it wasn't too farfetched that she cared for him – Armin cared for her, even if he didn't show it – and they had been living together for nearly six years. There was no denying it made him incredibly happy, and he wanted to reflect on it a bit more, but something even more baffling had happened that night and that was Jean's spontaneous compliment.

Yes, it was just a compliment – not even something particularly amazing either – but Armin's ears still burned from the embarrassment and most of all 'why' had Jean said it? That was what bothered Armin. It wasn't uncommon for him to overthink things and spend hours upon hours theorizing different possibilities and trying to pinpoint which one was more accurate, etcetera, etcetera.

However, this wasn't the type of question he was used to and Armin was mortified to realize he hadn't the slightest clue as to what it all meant. The most logical answer was that Jean had said it spur of the moment and had meant it as nothing more than a harmless comment. But Armin had – amazingly enough – known Jean long enough by now to know that the brunet meant everything he said. So Armin could safely assume that Jean thought he was cute. But then that raised the question as to what kind of cute. Was it a, I see you as a close friend and you have a cute smile? Or maybe it was a, you're like a little brother or something and I find you cute. And then there was the – heaven forbid – I might be slightly sexually attracted to you and I like seeing you and being with you every day because you are so cute.

Armin had a hard time believing it was the last one – he didn't get out much and rarely socialized and it really seemed too good to be true. And that was another thing; the fact that Armin – and he was ashamed to admit it – actually, kind of, sort of, wanted Jean to like him like that. He thought back to when they had first met and how Armin had been positive they could never get along, and now here they were, several months later, really close – dare he say it – friends. His reaction to Jean probably confused him more than Jean himself and quite honestly, Armin didn't like it. He was used to knowing damn near everything and when he didn't know an answer he was quick to figure it out, but who knew human emotions could be so troublesome.

Armin fitfully rolled over once more, before he was sighing heavily and sitting up in bed. At this rate he wouldn't be getting any sleep and so he slipped out of bed, pulled a robe on over his nightshirt and then snuck out of his room - intent on lying in the garden, under the moonlight, until he could cool his head. The floorboards were chilly beneath Armin's bare feet and no doubt the grass outside would be cooler – presumably slick with dew – and so he pulled his robe around himself tighter before stepping outside. As he predicted, the night air was cool against his skin, but it was pleasant and Armin sighed in relief as he made his way across the garden and sat before the tree he usually took shelter beneath on sunny days.

He leaned back against the tree, head resting against the bark and not caring at all that he was probably getting his hair dirty, before allowing his eyes to slide shut and just soaking in the night air.

It had just been as he was dozing off, content to be in one of his favorite places, that he heard the soft sound of someone walking in the grass and Armin cursed his luck, because of course Jean would notice he snuck out.

So he opened his mouth to apologize, eyes blinking open as well, when suddenly a large, glove covered hand clamped roughly over his nose and mouth. Armin's eyes bulged in shock, body jolting in surprise as he stared up a man he'd never seen before, clothed in all black. Armin yelped against the man's hand – a muffled command for the man to unhand him, all the while trying, and failing, to push the guy away – before the man was shoving against his face and the back of Armin's head was reconnecting with the tree behind with a 'thud' that echoed in his head and left his ears ringing.

Dazed, Armin kept struggling against the man's hold, but that didn't stop him from uncovering Armin's mouth long enough to shove a balled up piece of cloth into his mouth, roughly slap a piece of duct tape over his lips, and then easily slip his arm around Armin's waist and toss him harshly over his shoulder like Jean had done so many months ago.

'Jean!' Armin thought frantically, if Jean were here he'd definitely be able to help!' but the thought wasn't as comforting as the blond had hoped and instead he felt incredibly worthless and so he started kicking his legs and beating his fists against the man's back, who only grunted and dug his nails into Armin's side with his fingertips, while his left arm came up to hold Armin's legs in place, and with tears in his eyes Armin couldn't help but think how pathetic he was.

'I'm not even tied up, and yet I'm still completely useless,' he thought, and maybe Hanji had been right to hire a body guard for him, because now in this moment, it was painfully obvious how much he needed the help. But that didn't do him much good, because Jean wasn't here, and he had no one to rely on but himself.

Armin squeezed his eyes shut in frustration, not even bothering to scream against the gag in his mouth, and instead cursing the fact that he was about to be kidnapped and quite possibly murdered, and that he was completely and utterly helpless.

And then Armin felt like he was experiencing vertigo, as his whole world shifted and he found himself toppling to the grass and the man who had previously been holding him was grunting in pain. Armin quickly scrambled a couple feet away and looked up just in time to see Jean smash his fist into the man's face for – most definitely – the second time. Why else would the man have dropped him? And Armin wasn't sure whether he should cry from happiness or from frustration that he had been saved (though in retrospect, he had already been crying before Jean even showed up), so he settled for picking at the duct tape on his face, and carefully peeling the sticky material from his face. Once the tape was gone (a surprisingly – for Armin at least – painful endeavor) he spit out the saliva soaked gag onto the grass before looking up at Jean who, at some point while Armin had been distracted, had pinned the kidnapper face down into the ground, and had twisted both of his arms behind his back.

"Go get Hanji," Jean said, gritting his teeth as he held the struggling man down and mentally berating himself for not being prepared and bringing his handcuffs. Armin nodded, before scrambling to his feet and running off in search of Hanji.

* * *

After the whole ordeal was done, and the kidnapper carted off, and the police statements jotted down, Armin found himself sitting in the kitchen with Jean and Hanji. Jean looked pissed, worried, and relieved all at once – a look that made him look utterly ridiculous and one that Hanji had called him out on.

Hanji didn't seem too worried though, in fact she looked a little smug and Armin supposed it wouldn't be long before she sing-songed the words "I told you, you needed a body guard."

But the words never came and instead Hanji walked up to Armin and roughly squeezed his shoulder – he swore this woman didn't know her own strength – before leaning down to whisper in her ear, "I'm so glad you're okay," and Armin could have sworn her voice cracked a bit, before she continued on to say, "When did you two get so close? I didn't hire this guy to be your lover you know."

And Armin sputtered indigently, Hanji merely cackling out loud, before she was bidding the two good night and heading off to bed – effectively leaving the two boys alone.

"So… thanks for saving me then Jean." Armin said after a couple beats of awkward silence and Jean just rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, just doing my job – don't mention it."

It would suffice to say that both boys still felt awkward thanks to dinner and then this attempted kidnapping on top of it all really just served to make it worse.

Armin absently shuffled his feet, before he was sighing and getting out of his chair, "Good night then." He said, hesitating briefly, before slowly turning on his heel and walking away.

"Wait!" Jean shouted, before lunging forward to snatch Armin's wrist and the blond turned to look up at him in wonder, "I'm… I'm glad you're okay. Are you hurt anywhere?"

Armin shook his head, "Not really, I think I have a small bump on the back of my head, but other than that I'm fi-" Armin choked on his words when one of Jean's hands suddenly threaded through his hair and fingers cautiously felt around his scalp.

"It's just a little bump," Jean said upon contact with said bump, and Armin fought the urge to tell him that that's what he had pretty much said, "Does it hurt?"

"Not at all, I'm fine." He said and Jean sighed in relief, hand sliding down the back of Armin's head and resting at the base of his neck, where he rubbed his fingers against the skin there.

"Uhm Jean," Armin said, and that seemed to snap the brunet out of whatever daze he had been in, as he took in their close proximity and Armin's flushed face – before blushing himself and none too gracefully backing away.

Jean chuckled nervously, "Well I'm glad you're okay – have a nice sleep – please don't leave your room again – I'm just – I'm just gonna go make sure the house is secure and yeah, okay, bye!" and with that sputtered explanation, Jean was running off in the other direction and Armin watched him go with a smile.

"As if I'd ever be with a dork like that," he murmured, remembering Hanji's earlier teasing, before walking back to his room.

Though if he was honest with himself, he wouldn't mind being with someone like Jean; in fact, he'd really enjoy it actually.

Once Armin was back in his room, he allowed himself to think over everything that had just happened – how someone had tried to kidnap him – how he had been so useless – and how Jean had, yet again, managed to confuse him with his behavior. With a sigh, Armin walked to his bookcase and plucked a book off the shelf – he was positive he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. And still feeling a bit shaken from earlier (something he hadn't even realized until he found himself alone), he tucked the book under his arm and left to loiter outside Jean's room and wait for the man to return from giving the house a once over – intent on having the brunet keep him company for the rest of the night.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: It's a little on the short side. Sorry for how long it took, I procrastinated too much. xD Hope you enjoy.

* * *

For Eren, Armin was this constant in his life – the blond boy had been his friend for as long as he could remember – he was there before Mikasa, and continued to stay by his side no matter what hardships they endured. Even when Eren changed from the child he was back then – young and innocent – to a murderer – to a teenager hell bent on revenge, and even to a monster – Armin stayed - stayed by his side and still looked up to him as a friend, as a brother, as a fellow human. For that, Eren was grateful. And for the longest time he had thought it would always be that way – until Jean happened.

It was to be expected that Armin would make friends during their trainee years – Eren had made some himself actually (a miracle in and of itself) and he was happy for the blond, because at the end of the day he was still Armin's best friend and confidant and they were inseparable.

Eren didn't know what he had been expecting when Armin joined the scouting legion – they were in different squads so it was obvious they wouldn't have as much time together as they were used to, and Eren still had to sleep in the dungeon, so they couldn't lie side by side like they had for so many years, hand in hand. Eren understood that, they all had to grow up eventually. But, he hadn't planned nor expected for Armin and Jean to be as close as they were.

They must have grown close while Eren was with the scouting legion. And admittedly, he and Jean weren't at each other's throats like they had been during their trainee days, but something just didn't sit well with him when he saw them together.

Maybe it was because it seemed like when he saw Armin these days, Jean was there. Maybe it was the way Armin smiled up at him and told him about the ocean and the world outside and just laughed with him. Whatever it was, Eren didn't like it. Those smiles and stories used to be his and no one else's. Not even Mikasa's. And the overwhelming feeling of jealously he experienced whenever he saw them together was unbearable and Eren felt abandoned – left behind.

They had made the decision to join the trainee corps together, had made the decision to join the scouting legion together, and Eren had honestly thought they would never be apart. Side by side, through thick and thin – that's how it always was – how it was supposed to be.

And yet now he could only stand at Levi's side and watch as his closest friend drifted away from him. Eren was always the type of person that took everything into his own hands and not once in their friendship had Eren ever hesitated to tell Armin exactly how he felt. Now though, he wasn't so sure. Had he lost that privilege? Was Jean now standing in the spot he once had? Eren wanted to be angry at the taller boy, it was his fault for swooping in like that, and yet Eren didn't have the heart to.

Armin looked so happy and Eren felt like he had already lost.

* * *

Finally came a time when they were given a lot of free time, and Eren could see Jean talking to Connie and so he took his chance to find Armin. When he found the boy, the blond had smiled up at him and ran towards him with a wave and a 'Hey Eren'.

And it was just like the old days and he smiled in relief, because even though they rarely spent together Armin was still Armin.

"Are you okay?" the boy asked and Eren just shrugged nervously.

"Yeah, I just missed you is all." And it was true – he really did miss Armin. He was so close and yet so far away and it was taxing and Eren felt horrible. And Armin still knew Eren as well as he always did, and so he took his hand and led him someplace more quiet, and after some poking and prodding Eren confessed how he had been feeling the past couple weeks. Armin listened quietly, patting Eren's shoulder reassuringly and telling Eren he was irreplaceable, and when Eren asked him how he could be so sure, Armin was blushing and avoiding Eren's gaze.

"What is it?" Eren had asked and Armin reluctantly admitted that he liked Jean in a romantic sense before reiterating that Eren is his best friend and they would always be best friends and nothing and no one could ever change that.

And Eren was torn between being relieved or disgusted.

"Why Jean?" he had asked,and Armin had blushed once more and started stammering as he talked about how sweet and kind the brunet was and Eren tried not to gag before he was covering Armin's mouth – that was enough of that – he didn't want to hear anymore.

Eren awkwardly wished Armin luck, which Armin took gratefully, before he was pulling Eren into a hug that Eren returned with just as much intensity.

"Best friends forever?" Armin asked and Eren nodded.

"Forever and always."

And Eren still had his insecurities, but he believed and trusted in Armin completely and so he tried not to get jealous whenever he saw Jean and Armin together, and reminded himself that he wasn't being replaced and that Jean was taking a different spot in Armin's heart entirely – and in a sense, it was comforting.

But that didn't stop Eren from tracking Jean down and tripping him and yelling "You better take care of him!" before leaving an angry and confused Jean in the dust and a blushing Armin standing off to the side.


	10. Chapter 10

Prompt: I... really like the au where Irvin adopts Armin (Levi has Mikasa and Hanji has Eren), so could you write a fic where daddy Irvin meets Armin's boyfriend Jean?

A/N: Armin kept his family name despite being adopted.

* * *

There came a time in every parent's life when their child grew up – it was an inevitable occurrence that Irvin had prepared himself for when he had adopted his charge, Armin, when he was five years old. Still, he hadn't expected the day to come so soon. Sure, it had been twelve years since then, but now that the moment was here it felt like it was just yesterday when he had just been teaching Armin how to ride a bike and now—now this.

Just last week, Armin had come up to him and said "I want you to meet my boyfriend," if Irvin weren't such a composed man, he might have spit his coffee out. Instead, he swallowed the drink – the bitter drink going down like molasses – the shock of Armin's announcement making it hard to swallow.

"Could you repeat that please?" because surely he had heard wrong, but then Armin repeated himself.

"I want you to meet my boyfriend,"

And then Irvin died a little inside.

It wasn't that he was shocked Armin was dating a boy – he respected his preferences – no, he was shocked that he was dating in general! Armin had never mentioned a boy before.

"How long have you two been dating?" Irvin dared to ask. Since Armin had never mentioned anyone before, a small part of him hoped they had just started dating and that Armin wanted approval right away, but then the petite blond answered with "Half a year".

And Irvin was officially dead.

They had planned for the boyfriend; Jean was his name, to come over Friday afternoon for them to meet. Well today was the day and Irvin had been on edge the entirety of work and so he rushed home the moment his shift ended and now he was walking into his house.

He hung up his coat, before slipping his shoes off in the entry way. Normally, Armin would come to greet him at the door and the fact that he hadn't made him frown – he must be busy with Jean.

The first thing he noticed as he made his way down the hallway was that all of the lights were off and the second was voices coming from the living room.

"Mm Jean – we can't. My dad—aah… My dad's going to be home soon."

Irvin slowly set his briefcase on the floor, a string of discomfort coiling in the pit of his stomach as he stopped to listen because surely, _surely_ – he had misheard.

"Don't worry, we won't go all the way this time. I'll be real quick."

This time? _This time?!_ Was this Jean implying that they had done that before?

"We really shouldn't… ah. Ah – so good."

There was no mistaking it – it was obvious what he was hearing. Irvin started storming down the hall – steps quick and light as he made his way to the living room.

"See? You want this just as much as I do."

This Jean guy was a bad influence – a sexual predator – a nuisance that needed to go.

"Let's… Can we at least go up to my room first?"

Irvin walked into the living room, and there was his precious baby boy, lying on the couch and on top of him was Jean, his right hand down the front of Armin's pants and-

"I can't wait that long – here's fine."

Oh. Hell. No.

"You have three seconds to remove your hand from the front of my son's pants before I remove it for you."

If Irvin wasn't so mad, it might have been funny how high Jean jumped, before he was scrambling off Armin – red faced and clearly embarrassed.

"Mr. Arlert—no! I mean, Mr. Smith!" Jean yelped - eyes racing rapidly as he tried to think up an excuse for what Armin's dad had clearly just seen.

And when he failed to come up with an excuse he fumbled to introduce himself, "Nice to meet you sir," and then he was sticking his hand – his right hand – out, "I'm Jean Kirschstein… sir."

Irvin sneered, clearly staring at the boy in disgust before Armin was nudging Jean in the elbow and whispering, "You seriously didn't just—Go wash your hands."

And that explained why Irvin looked so disgusted – Jean quickly lowered his hand – blushing even more if it was possible – before he was darting past Irvin and slipping down the hall.

With Jean out of the room, Irvin quickly rounded on Armin.

"I do not approve of this boy one bit."

"I'm sorry," Armin apologized, "And I know it seems bad now, but I promise Jean's normally better than this."

Irvin hardly looked impressed and so Armin excused himself to make tea, before dipping down the hall in search of Jean.

From where Irvin had sat himself on the loveseat, far away from the couch, he could hear the two boys whispering. Jean a flurry of panicked "I messed up,"s and "He's going to kill me."s

"It's okay Jean," came Armin's soothing voice, "First impressions are always bad."

"But I really messed up. How can he forgive me? I can't even forgive me!"

"You're being too hard on yourself."

Irvin scoffed, he disagreed. It was good if this guy felt awful for what he did.

"Look Jean, I know things didn't go as well as they should have, and my dad probably thinks you're a giant pervert,"

You got that right.

"But I love you. I really, really do. And my dad can respect that. As long as he knows you'd never hurt me,"

"—I'd never hurt you!" Jean cut in and Irvin could hear Armin laugh lightly before continuing.

"I know that. And once my dad knows that too and sees how happy I am with you, he'll accept you too."

There was a beat of silence before, "Yeah?"

"Yup." Came Armin's chipper reply, followed by a sigh of relief on Jean's part and a "I love you Armin."

"I love you too Jean," and Irvin could hear the joy and happiness dripping off his son's every word.

Irvin waited patiently for the duo to return, Armin with a tray of drinks – coffee for Irvin, which he took gratefully – and Jean looking a lot less frazzled than he had earlier.

Jean bowed at the waist, "I'm truly sorry sir, about what you saw. It'll never happen again."

Irvin could see Armin beaming at the boy and when he caught his son's eye it was obvious Armin knew he had heard the earlier conversation and knew that Irvin would begrudgingly approve. But that didn't mean he was going to let Jean off easy. For Jean's sake, he hoped Armin had warned him that Irvin would be drilling him every question in the book.


End file.
